Array ( [sid] => 185342 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => GOODWILL Days [time] => 2018-08-09 17:47:24 [hometext] => The store thats filled with ghosts of me.... [bodytext] => When I was broke with kids to feed; Goodwill filled most every need.
Clothes for school, shoes for me; Books and toys most certainly.

They celebrated holidays; With stuff that others gave away.
A dollar would buy Christmas lights; An Easter bunny, or a kite.

Seeing those who had much less; Erased my thoughts of helplessness.

Back then I lived on faith and tears; Today I shop and volunteer.
Sometimes I’ll see that girl I know; In faded clothes with kids in tow;
I’ll pay her bill or buy the toy; she can’t afford to give her boy.

So grateful I can understand; The Godsend of a helping hand,
Everyday from then to now, I vowed to pay them back somehow;

Inside their doors it comes to me; that whispered, tugging memory;
Walking back in time to be, exactly where I used to be. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 87 [topic] => 19 [informant] => softerware [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => InspirationalPoems ) Your Poetry Dot Com - GOODWILL Days


GOODWILL Days
Date: Thursday, 9th August 2018 @ 05:47:24 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: softerware
When I was broke with kids to feed; Goodwill filled most every need.
Clothes for school, shoes for me; Books and toys most certainly.

They celebrated holidays; With stuff that others gave away.
A dollar would buy Christmas lights; An Easter bunny, or a kite.

Seeing those who had much less; Erased my thoughts of helplessness.

Back then I lived on faith and tears; Today I shop and volunteer.
Sometimes I’ll see that girl I know; In faded clothes with kids in tow;
I’ll pay her bill or buy the toy; she can’t afford to give her boy.

So grateful I can understand; The Godsend of a helping hand,
Everyday from then to now, I vowed to pay them back somehow;

Inside their doors it comes to me; that whispered, tugging memory;
Walking back in time to be, exactly where I used to be.

This poem is Copyright © softerware


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