the portkey

they say chrismas only comes once a year
but i feel like i know you for 10 year
because of all the back and forth
you going south and i , heading north
but we always get back because who can resist
a snack of this tiny dancers poems

it took sometimes when i think we get  hang of it

i always seem to throw a fit like you drop hit

seem to become my habit

put me on the naughy list

pop down like the santa throw the chimney

like some kinda gent from that wore from heaven sent

and become sorta been the gift the always in present

he make me clever and made realize what in life , matter

yeah , you wore my portkey

that made everything click

and im so happy you still , stick

even thought im not perfect