Building Something Else

Building Something Else

The family trade was carpentry
He wasn’t any good
Didn’t swing a hammer easily
The way they thought he should

So he swept the floors and sorted screws
Felt sorry for himself
Like half a man to those he knew
Who were building something else

With words and rhyme he spent his time
And some didn’t approve
But others came upon his lines
And marveled at the truth

For in his dreams they found the beams
Of a home for themselves
There would be no grand mezzanine
He was building something else

When finally doors flew open wide
He hoped his Pop would come
To walk those quirky floors with pride
And say “a job well done”

But should his scheme prove too offbeat
He was pleased for himself
With this place where quiet souls meet
And for building something else