...And when she would smile
and tell me that it was okay to cry,
I'd cry in her arms and know I was loved.
Daddy never knew me.
He never took the time.
Never came to birthday parties.
Never recited a nursery rhyme.
I see his sleeping eyes in the moonlight.
He is beauty in his sleep.
I know he'll awaken and hate me;
I've gotten in too deep.
He holds me while I cry
and flashes gentle loving glances
as he looks into teary brown eyes.
He explains them as 'beautiful'
I sometimes wish we'd never met
and life was whole without you,
but then I catch myself
thinking of those succulent kisses