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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