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MY FATHER MY BEST FRIEND
My father one man whom I love,
I respect and cherish his love,
He may not be a man of wealth,
Not to worry, for nor I myself.
As a child growing up we played,
I remember the things that we made,
A scout I was then about nine or ten,
A project the car that he saved,
When I was ill he was there,
Not hiding stood bye he cared,
As I grew up more the same,
Saw me through all my pain.
Out to the pub we’ve been,
Playing darts like I’ve never seen,
With my uncle beating the crowds,
That time I was incredibly proud.
Now stands a man so tall,
Retired from doing it all,
But if we need his hand,
He always understands.
My father my best friend,
A message to you I send,
You may not understand why,
But I’ll love you thanks for mine.
By B Kingsford Copy Write 2,004
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MY FATHER MY BEST FRIEND
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