|
|
Here is a small poem dedicated to all fathers.
|
My Father Whose that bragging about a fantastic play? To his friends and anyone that listens. Yet when he comes home it's just a "nice catch son". My Father Whose that standing behind me, as I'm stumbling? Ready to slap a twenty in my hand, winking at me not to tell mother. My Father He's someone I can always depend on. An ear that listens to me, and a voice of reason. He's smile I see, when I look in the Mirror. That's My Father |
|
|
Home |