The
Oil Lamp
The oil
lamp upon my fridge
Mom
used to take the kerosene
Applied
it to my open cuts
And
it would heal me quick and clean
Mom
used to take the kerosene
And
while she dabbed me she would say
The lamp
was old, from her dad’s side
It
came from Alabama way
Applied
it to my open cuts
So
tenderly in my bedroom
The
old lamp brings back memories
In
storms, when lit, would chase the gloom
And
it would heal me quick and clean
Yes,
kerosene would do the trick
But
now the lamp stands empty there
It
doesn’t even have a wick
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