We bought Dad a biro for 12 pence
He told us children we were very dense
When something is new it may have many flaws
In any case a pen is not a toy
I was quite surprised by his desire
I thought toys were for children, I’m a liar
I had seen seeing him playing with my toys
Doing jigsaw puzzles, I’m annoyed.
Can I love a man who loves my dolls.
In the winds of age I hear him call
I am older now than he was then
A biro could be useful to man
He played like a child for half an hour
I should not judge others when I’m sour.
Daddy died of cancer I was nine
So the long sad days of mourning were no crime