Daddy’s Poem.

by Jen Thompson

Once Was a Daddy’s Girl.

You used to carry me on your shoulders and swing me around,

You used to shout at the ground for hurting me when I fell down.

I loved holding your hand, knowing everything was alright,

You would always be there for me through cries during the night.

Well the years, they went fast, friends came and went,

But you, you stayed a while; you don’t know how much it meant.

Now, in my teenage prime, the mood swings just about tamed,

Yet, there you stand, still open armed, relatively unashamed.

Daddy’s Girl No More.

I told you I was leaving, but that it wasn’t personal at all,

Yet you took my keys, got rid of my things, and turned your face to the wall.

I get that you’re upset; gosh I would be the same,

But that doesn’t excuse the fact that you think I’m to blame.

You don’t see the tears, or the lip that forever trembles,

It was you who did this to me dad and, that I will always remember.

I put on a front that one time a month I see you,

You think all is fine with the world don’t you?

I can’t bear to let you see the dent you have made,

The coins are running empty on this lifeless arcade.

‘Daddy, Let Me Be Your Girl Again.’

I need you here with me, like you wouldn’t believe,

Why do you just sit there dad? Stop being so Naïve.

I don’t want to say my vows, walking down the aisle all alone,

Please, Please dad come back to me, open your heart, and come home.

If one little word is all it takes, I’ll be the bigger man,

‘I love you dad’ plain and simple, you’ve got to understand…

2 Comments to “Daddy’s Poem.”

If you enjoyed the poem. please leave a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: