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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #1748939
This is a poem about what Michael told me when he was younger.
Another Gold Brick

Said Michael, one night
Stretched out on my bed,
As I sat and stroked
His small tousled head,

“Grandma, when you’re old
And can’t live alone,
Will you come live with me
In a house I will own?"

“I don’t know, dear Michael.
Will your house be as grand
As this two story house
Grandpa built me by hand?”

“Oh, much nicer, Grandma!”
Said Michael, quite certain.
“I’m sure you’ll like it there.
I’ll let you choose the curtains.

With walls made of gold
That never will rust,
And diamonds for windows,
You won’t have to dust.”

Said I to Michael,
“Though it is to my liking,
How can you afford to build
A palace ever so striking?”

Oh, the things children say!
Answered Michael real quick,
“Each time I do a good deed,
God adds another gold brick!"
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