Little girl, now woman grown, whither do you wander?

To seize the world with acumen and strength you forged in Father's arms?

Little voice, now conscience bright, you ask me where I go?

To Father's grave with joyful spirit free from torment, blame, and slight.

Little girl, now woman grown, did you not love thy Father?

The one who sowed the seeds of strength and acumen your soul imparts?

Little voice, now conscience dark, you ask me if I loved him?

One tear I'll shed, but not for him. Please listen while I make this clear. My tear is for the daddy that I should have had, but never will. For in his death he's lost to me. My pain is done, but hope is, too.

Her eyes are adorned with a glittering gown,

Like that the sun drapes upon lakes at twilight;

And like the sky whose turbulent hues are hurled upon the horizon nigh.

Her eyes teem with the spectrum’s manifold prism,

Emanating a hope not yet denied.

Like the soft hues about her, so elegant - lovely;

Like the manner about her- becoming, refined.

Those eyes shone starkly her longing, her passion;

The passion of youth age not yet betrayed.

To win love from a spirit that saunters so graceful,

Your spirit must be that of a prince or a saint.

Drawn to those eyes ’til my breath betrays me,

I hope into dreaming but know I am doomed.

To smolder insane in the wake of rejection,

While watching her effulgence imbuing the world.

As man upon man clamors to win her,

I know I am not...all she deserves!

I should've moved,

Answered,

Prayed,

Said yes,

Ran harder,

Dreamed bigger,

Been stronger,

And because of that, 

I'm here. 

But he's there,

Because he stayed,

Asked,

Hoped,

Excelled,

Swam faster,

Stayed stronger,

Prayed more,

And I should be there, 

Not here.

And it never will be,

Even though we hoped,

Prayed,

Loved.

The perfect

wife, never was,

the playful

child, never born,

the cozy

home, it got torn,

because of 

you and your lusts.