dear daddyA Poem by Kat Waugh
daddy, are you proud of me?
the daughter that you raised, to be terrified of everyone, for they'll harm me for their gain. and love does not exist, does it? it's merely greed and lust; oh have you taught me well? now that i fear to trust. and all the callous criticism, you said would do me good, has left me fearing of an audience, when i can't act the way i should. and daddy, how you ruined them, the women who i loved, my mother, and the lover, and the girlfriend long withstood. or were you simply bored, and people were a game, oh daddy, you have cursed me! and what a crying shame. i look into the mirror, dad, and i'm grown but i am weak, a little girl still weeping, for a father's loving speech. and oh these wretched eyes, that you have given men, they're wearing and forsaken, too tired now to see. you stole from me a childhood, telling me it was for the best, but still daddy, daddy, daddy, dont leave me list the rest.
© 2013 Kat WaughAuthor's Note
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