What do father’s say
To their knock-knee daughters
Not able to sit on their lap and learn to shave
Their distant allegory
A return of themselves in female form
What would they?
A daughter born
Looks up at he who holds the world
Why do men let me drown Daddy?
Her eyes speak of hurt and scorn
Her belly wasted and torn
Why do they tell me I am no good for?
He who reaches
Does not know the words for his daughter’s heart
He wants to break the necks of any who hurt her
But there are just