I have a toy I made myself,
a headless angel with afro hair.
I sometimes try to attach that head,
under her blank-faced angry stare.

I have a book my nanna gave me,
a book by A A Milne himself;
she doesn\'t know, but I treasure it dearly,
and it never grows dust on my shelf.

I have a clock from Singapore,
that hasn\'t stopped for two years;
It tells the time, it wakes me up,
by blowing up my ears.

I have an angel (a broken one),
a book of rhyme, then time;
these things are nothing but fragments of life,
but were essential to this rhyme.

the book by Milne was this poem\'s rhyme,
the clock the time it has taken;
the broken toy? That must be me,
unless I am much mistaken.