An Elegy For The Family Farm

I grew up on my family’s farm
It was the best place to be as a child
Wonderful memories I have because of its charm
Around ever aspect of the farm our life was styled

There came the day when the farm could not continue
Due to money and greed the life on the farm was stolen
My family had to move and our life on the farm we had to discontinue
Sadly we left with our belongings and eyes swollen

The loss of the farm legacy is as if I lost a piece of me
My great-grandfather to this land did roam
He picked this land because of the white oak tree
He took the risk to make this place his home

The white oak meant it was good farming land
The land was like the German land he left
Good growing soil mixed with a little sand
If only he knew the land would become the scene of theft

The farm was then passed down to my grandfather
Another generation tied their soul to the land’s life
Deep in the country it was where no one would bother
Over time he lived there with ten children and his wife

To my father then the farm did go
The farm became a part of him
Into the very land his blood did flow
The farm was a part of him like a tree has a limb

Even today I can feel the earth on my feet
As we used to run around without our shoes
With this life on the farm my life was complete
The adventures available were many for us to choose

The day came and the farm could not keep pace with the economy
At that time my father’s brother came to the rescue
This would not have been accepted if the future we did see
Little did we know that their relationship had bid adieu

The day came when greed won the fight
The brother turned his back, demanding us to leave
His plans to sell the family’s land was just not right
To this day for the farm my family does grieve

Once we were forced from our family’s legacy
We were heart-broken, knowing life would not be the same
Now I know, keeping the family tight the farm was the key
To us, my father’s brother a Judas he became

Now the farm has been cut into plots
Sold to people who have no idea of the sorrow
The scene of our pain is to see these lots
The anger in me will remain into tomorrow

My children will not have a chance on the farm their love to bestow
They will not know that it was this land that cared for generations
The legacy of the land will not from me to them go
It is from me to the family farm that I send my lamentations

In literature, an elegy is a mournful, melancholic or plaintive poem, especially a funeral song or a lament for the dead.
The elegy began as an ancient Greek metrical form and is traditionally written in response to the death of a person or group. Though similar in function, the elegy is distinct from the epitaph, ode, and eulogy: the epitaph is very brief; the ode solely exalts; and the eulogy is most often written in formal prose.  The elements of a traditional elegy mirror three stages of loss. First, there is a lament, where the speaker expresses grief and sorrow, then praise and admiration of the idealized dead, and finally consolation and solace.
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