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The Saga of a
Gypsy Child
I move around from
place to place
Same faces never
stay
I'm always the "new
kid in town"
And no one wants
to play
My clothes my older
sister wore
My mom possibly
too
The things I own
are few and small
And very rarely
new
Our house is an
old pickup truck
A camper on the
back
I'm warm with Grandma's
knitted shawls
And love I never
lack
My father is a carpenter
A yardman or a cook
My mother teaches
us to write
And how to read
a book
We stay until a
job is done
And then on we must
go
The Modern Gypsy
life is hard
The only life I
know
As bad and rough
as it may sound
I would not trade
a thing
Each day is an adventure
What will the future
bring?
(c) "Amalthea
Celebras" K.C. Fahel 17 July 1991
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