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I've seen the way
Your eyes glaze
                  twinge
                  sparkle
      ov­er her presence
And I become
invisible

All I want
      is to be her
You're my fear
Everything that i hold dear
You hang on every word I say
As I pray, you won't grow
To one day, live that way
But to find your own words
Of world's old and new
That take you places
Beyond all that i once knew
Till that day, I'll always say
I'll carry your fear
Like a one true love
That i keep near
So grow my angel child
Take this life as you can
Be it one or be it many
Let it be dreams that you carry
And if you ever misstep
If you stumble or falter
I will always be humbled and proud
To be the one, to call you
Daughter
Hello father
it's me
the daughter you couldn't love
the one you never see

Hi dad, it's me
The one that looks just like you
The chocolate skin, the smile, lips and nose
The daughter you don't know
Hi "father", "dad"
it sounds foreign coming from my lips
because since the day I was pushed from my mother's hips
you have been a shadow, only appearing for brief moments and not when needed
you know that I am special
but do you know why?

did you know that as a little girl for you I used to cry?
When the boys felt me up in the halls of my middle school-- I wanted your advice
do I push them away or let their hands stay
When my heart was broken I wanted you there to tell me I was beautiful
that it would all get better
I wanted confirmation of my value
When I started college I wanted you there to help me move into my dorm room and give me all these rules that I'd agree to only until you left

I see the pain in your eyes and between the lines of the words you say
I see the see the pain of what your daddy didn't for you
the pain of how you've failed your children too

This is in't meant as a disrespect to you
but an admission of the truth
but daddy, I forgive you
For all you didn't do

But I am also disappointed
because the failure were acknowledged
and you said you wanted change
but your actions are still the same
and my efforts seem in vain

So I am throwing my hands up
Not sure it's a cause we are both fighting for

Goodbye dad
I hope one day you'll be
everything I always needed and more
Pretty (adj):
1. pleasing or attractive to the eye, as by delicacy or gracefulness;
"Pretty" is a word that's been spewed at you since the day you were born,
A social standard set upon you that you had yet to even hear, but it was being used to describe you instantly;
A "pretty little girl", a "pretty face", "pretty eyes", "pretty smile", "pretty outfit",
Did anyone ever stop to wonder if you'd have a pretty soul?
What about the way you could be brought to tears at the thought of shaming homeless people or victims of abuse, how your heart felt like it was ripping out of your chest when you heard about someone who was struggling,
They didn't seem to care that you tested highest in compassion, they just wanted to know where you got your dress from.
As you grew older the adjective turned from an innocent compliment to what seemed like a snide remark,
The word "pretty" began to eat you from the inside out every time it was said
like you should measure your worth in how delicate others find you;
You stopped accepting "pretty" as a compliment when it turned into an adjective that was only associated with girls that were more than average but less than beautiful,
You stopped accepting "pretty" as a compliment when it became an antonym of strong,
like "pretty" girls were things that would break if you talked too loud, as if loving a "pretty" thing could never be synonymous with loving a durable or sturdy or resilient thing.
D.A. Sharp once said
"You weren't meant to be pretty; you were meant to burn down the earth and graffiti the sky. Don't let anyone ever simplify you to just "pretty"."
And so when someone kindly placed the word in a sentence referring to you you learned to automatically put it into quotations because they were just trying to be nice,
They didn't know they were reducing you to outer beauty, that "pretty" seemed less like a compliment the more it was said, like people couldn't figure out another way to describe you,
As if God hadn't already intricately woven the threads of your DNA, as if he hadn't perfectly tinted every hair on your head to be its crisp burnt color or hand painted the irises of your eyes,
No, "pretty" could no longer cut it.
Because you had been made for bigger and better things,
Those "pretty" eyes of yours will one day see things that God hadn't originally intended anyone to have to see, and those "pretty" hands of yours will have to pick up the pieces of a heartache that God had never wanted you to know and put them back together, and those "pretty" lips of yours are the same lips that will stand in front of sin and tell it that you have chosen Jesus.
Because "pretty" is fine,
but you have been fearfully and wonderfully made, a masterpiece of the Creator.
this won me first place in a spoken word performance!
For some reason untold
I feel nothing when I write these words
They used to be my refuge
When the world was crashing down
Yet, for some reason
They don't mean so much now

For some reason
I read the things
That pours from another's heart
How these words are keeping them
From being torn apart

For some reason
I wanna let it go
what was its meaning?
I no longer know
For some reason
I can't understand
My poetry dosen't mean...
Anything

I figure
What's the point
If my words
No longer
Want to be heard

I'll still write
I just won't share
It won't make the diffrence I always dreamed
If no one cares

For some reason
I think it's time
To give up my rhymes
Set down the pen
And when I pick it up again....
Maybe they'll listen
I think I'm just gonna like people's poetry and repost a few, but I think I'm gonna take a break with writing. It doesn't seem to be getting anywhere and none of its any good. So, dear pen and paper, keyboard and computer....I bid you...farewell.
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