Father
Holding his little finger the princess learned how to walk,
On a blotted stomach he managed to let the little one fall asleep.
The nights were long and the days were short,
no matter what time of the year,
Working dusk till dawn.
Trying to build a castle for his little princess,
He always worked on weekends.
Like hero, like king,
none of the above but still,
my beam,
My Father.
