By Aaron... cloudy@infowest.com
Date: 8 December 2000
My Father
My Father
Oh joy, oh happiness,
because now is the day.
For my father will come,
and whisk me away.
Maybe we’ll fish,
or go play in the park
or just plain sit there, and watch movies,
‘till out comes the dark.
So I sit there with suitcase arest on the floor.
Just waiting for him to knock on the door.
Then mom comes from the kitchen,
with a sad look in her eye.
She tells me he’s not coming,
and I start to cry.
Because my father’s too busy to take off a day,
To put me on his shoulders and whisk me away.
So I went out in the yard and climbed our tree
Then sat crouched on a limb and thought,
that he didn’t love me.
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