Him

He was born and left for dead,

When he was ten he found a shed,

It was warm and cozy,

He was quite nosey,

He was sad that he had no one,

Until he met the ones,

They sheltered and cared for him,

They named him, little Tim,

He was quite a happy child,

Till he found out what they were going to use him for,

So he ran, ran, ran, as fast as he could,

under the cold wood,

As it came to a couple years,

He was a hero,

He owns a home,

Has a wife and many children,

He was a good father for the children that weren't even his,

He became someone better than the people who adopted him,

He acted like a father and always a father,

That was his way to love.