Daddy worked from dusk to dawn,
as a miner close to home,
his hands were dirty and painfully sore
when he walked tiredly through the door.

His hours were long and steady,
promising a weekly paycheck for our family,
he'd carry his lunch within a tin pail,
something Mama would put together without fail.

On Sundays we'd all go to the community church,
looking our best in starched shirts and cotton dresses
with our shiny and bright faces we'd go inside
as Daddy carried the family Bible with pride.

Whenever a neighbor needed an extra hand,
Daddy would pitch in and never complain,
he believed helping one another was a Godly deed,
part of his dedicated and hard-working creed.

Daddy was not afraid of years of grime,
it showed on his hands of toil,
whether splitting wood or repairing the house,
he proved to be a loving father and spouse.

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