Parent No.3

He was my parent no. 3
An I sure was a glad wee one 
My brother shone so bright my mum a called him her son
And my sister twirled my Puppa like an actual baton. 

So I needed him there 
My Parent no. 3

I didn't know it then
But he meant so much to me
I didn't know it then
But I think he felt cast aside. 
That his efforts were ignored 
And his love was being pied 
Cause when we rang it was for my Ma 
He was an extra chat 

He’s often in the kitchen calling himself a twat 
At that, I'd think him foolish
Cause we all know that he ain't 
He's intelligent and thoughtful
But we all got our pains

When I was young, he’d read me Whinnie the pooh
he’d always love to guess my riddles
And he was an excellent cook.
He still is.

An excellent cook

We both love crosswords
And we like to write
And we both like our curries HOT
We rarely ever fight
But when we do we know its not
About the anger, its coming from a place of love
Because we care so much about our family
And we would put the ones we love above all else

I can not describe 
The privilege i feel
To have
My parent no.3

I am so lucky
That he is always there for me