Transitions
There is this...
When she was five
I was her daddy -
Maker of wonders,
Wielder of power,
Protector and keeper.
When she was twelve
I was dad -
Homework helper
Tear dryer
Night guard.
Now that she's grown
I'm father -
He,
Left
Out.
We should detach.
That is our job.
But, oh,
I miss making wonders
And drying tears.
poem by Robert J Meyer
Added by Poetry Lover
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