Thursday, 7 June 2012

Living in a Camp

Every day was a camp day
This was where he lived
Down the road from us
He never caused a fuss

We would visit him as we passed by
He would tell us stories of days gone by
His life was hard but interesting
He had seen so much
Practically living from a bin

He lived off the land
As much as he could
He was a small proud man
So misunderstood

We would sit around his tiny open fire
His eyes would light up full of desire
His stories would save us from the cold
He was small and feeble
Getting old

He taught us how to do his dance
This long time way had us in a trance
He was so unique
No one came next to him
He was our camping man
He was our king

As he opened his lips
He began to sing
Such a voice
Had such a distinctive ring

We were like his Indians
He was our chief
He filled us full of confidence
Filled us full of hope

When one day we came down
He was no where to be found
We had lost our inner voice
The fun fell to the ground

He was safe and well reunited with family
Finally somewhere warm
This made us happy for him
Away from the cold and harm
As it was Christmas time
Wishes do come through
We missed him so much
But his dreams finally came
We thank him for all he done
As we pass we think of him
And for all the fun

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