PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

My father would never allow our family
to be broken up.

My favorite doll was stored away,
In a treasure chest to stay.
Wrapped in tender of a touch,
A warm blanket, quiet hush.

Put to sleep, by a child,
To make her life worthwhile.

As a young teenger, I knew how to
present myself for fathers approval..
If I had been naughty, his dis-
approval would have been immense.
I wanted to please him. Get good
grades in school,
Do not break the golden rule.

Then one day, seems like a life
time ago,
I was so young and naive
Looking in a toy shop window,
for a new doll. A little drummer boy
caught my attention.
 

(c) copyright heather burns