Was away.
I missed him.
I wrote this poem.
For you, Dad.
Sitting by the fire,
Rushing to the door,
Looking out the window,
Rushing cross the floor,
Waiting for the person that I always miss,
But I can wait a little longer, just for this.
Hear the doorbell ringing,
I rush around singing,
He’s here! He’s here!
He’s finally here!
Open up the door, see him standing there,
The man that I adore,
My father, my father is standing by the door
I love you dad.
I missed you.
Love is like,
Gravity.
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