Life’s Table

Most chests hold and clutch sad stories, truths behind each door
Blood may have spilled upon those floors, spattered shore to shore
Son returns, bloody war, casket sealed forever tight
Gone are those who were cut short, no chance to reunite

Matrimony mates two hearts, a couple into one
Nature granted birthing rights, a daughter or a son
Celebrations now unfold, K-1 to senior high
Parent’s chests they thrust outright, with pride toward the sky

Monies often talked about, dark sears to red hot coals
Other times a child’s bad day, engraved now into scrolls
Tales of fun and gaiety are shared amongst the group
Revealing secret stories, by sharing all the poop

Old oak table stories told, will hold and fill a shoe
Each one ties a different lace, spellbound and held with glue
History repeats itself, as family’s age with time
Strutting forth, next stage in life, assigned amidst their prime.