I have an object in my hand,
It only moves when I command.

It can speak and tell a lie,
Yet has no feelings and cannot cry.

It says I love you but has no heart.
Yet keeps us together when we're apart

And in my hand it can be brave,
But does as it's told, for it's my slave.

It doesn't move till I say when,
So now I place it away....




© Ken Barker

This poem was written by my Father about 40 years ago.

Posted by Kim at 3:17 pm