Dads Poem

A sore, scruffy, and dirty old man,

Who comes home every night with his tool box in hand,

As he is about to fall asleep,

From the shadows a small child speaks,

Daddy are you awake?

Today some children at school said my clothes weren't so great.

Do not let these comments be a bother,

For these children do not know the meaning of the honest dollar.

For if it should happen again then tell them this,

No amount of money can by my happiness

And all things material must come to and end,

Clothing, housing and even that shiny Mercedes Benz,

The End

my boyfriend wrote this