She
I stare at her dimpled cheeks,
Her sassy responses.
I grin at her horrible fashion sense,
The way she cat walks, the world is her run way.
My heart melts at her intelligence,
Her sharpness, and smartness,
Her brilliancy, her Ambition,
Her joy, the way she finds happiness in everything.
She's the daughter I had too soon,
She calls my Mother, Mum,
and she disrespects her brothers; my brothers,
She's daddy's little girl, a position I once held.
She's the daughter I had too soon,
She's my daughter, no one can tell me otherwise,
My never-ending source of joy, her smile never fades,
The helping hand when I fall into the abyss of depression and anxiety.
She's my sister,
My baby sister,
My daughter, My muse,
My Art, My song.
No one comes close, no one,
She's a living proof that I can love, and be loved,
That I'm worthy of love,
Sincerely, no one comes close.
YOU ARE READING
Something Mending -- VOL 1
PoetryOf Breaking hearts, young love, betrayal and pain. Of Mending hearts, familiar pain, unexpected hurt and aftermath. Of Healing hearts, underated heartache, pain and acceptance. Of Love, Love that is as deep sea. Pain, that knows no bounds. Strength...
