My Dad's Tool Box

My dad’s tool box is lot like him.
Sturdy, been through a lot.
Made for hard work;
Held more inside than you’d ever guess.
Sometimes, he’d ask me to pass him a tool,
And I’d know what he knew—
How it felt to set things right,
To make things better, to care.
Over the years, my dad’s tool box
Has gotten heavy—
Heavy with memories.
Shiny.
Timeworn.
Each perfect in its way.
Memories that a dad makes..
Of things set right,
Of a world where two hands
And a good heart still make a difference.