Ode To My Roof
Always a shelter to cushion my dreams,
has happily been my lot.
What a fortunate soul,
am I, am I.
Forever a roof at the end of each day,
to protect from the wind, rain, and cold.
A wartime bomb that shatters my dreams:
a friend close at hand to gather me in.
What a fortunate soul,
am I, am I
Slate, tile, canvas or steel,
are in place, as day becomes night.
No cardboard box, or pavement are mine.
Not for me the dark lonely sky.
Always a roof
to cushion my dreams.
What a fortunate soul
am I, am I.
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