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" I am posting this as its one from a past life that was deleted when I was banned from Soup, wrongly accused of bullying someone. I wont be around much longer and this was one of my favorites. To all those that believed me and stood by me, thank you, I will remember you til the end."   The poet


There’s a little log cabin, nestled by a big, fir tree.
It’s the place that my daddy built, before there was me.

It’s the warm cosy place, the place where I was born,
He made a little wooden cradle with carving to adorn

The colorful wooden blocks daddy made when I was one
He would pile then up for me to knock them down, such fun.

There was a little rocking chair daddy made when I was two
He made a bigger one for mummy and one for him too
When I was three he made a wooden doghouse for my new dog
The dolls house he made when I was four was made from just one log.

I was five when he made a tire swing hanging from the big fur tree
My daddy went away to be with the angels and forgot to take me.

And he didn’t make me anything when I was turning six
We moved into a big house that was all made out of bricks

We couldn’t take much stuff, mum said we had to travel light
I miss my little dog and toys and tire swing, it just doesn’t seem right

but most I miss my daddy, I need him here with me
I'll be very good and when he comes home he will see

Mum said he is making stuff for the angels now
But he left all his tools behind, so I really don’t see how.

~Fiction~

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