I can’t remember when I first met him,
I was probably young;
He told me his name was Tim.
He took my hand in his own; his were quite warm,
And led me out the backdoor and into the garden.
He showed me the most wonderful things I have ever seen;
We walked around the house while he lead me by the arm.
For the first time in a while I smiled;
Tim was a true friend and hero,
Helping me out, me who was nothing but a zero.
He had made my day worthwhile.
Tim came around a lot more often,
Mostly when I was crying or sad,
His silly faces would make me glad,
We would play in the den.
When I entered high school,
Tim didn’t come around as much,
It was actually my fault; I was in a clutch;
I told him he wasn’t cool.
Tim still visits me from time to time,
Though very rarely and not for long,
Maybe just enough for a quick song,
For he left for another time.
Oh! How I wish he was real