Dad wouldn't go to museums with me anymore
Dad wouldn't pick me up from school anymore
Dad wouldn't buy me my favorite sweets
anymore
Dad wouldn't take me to the mall
anymore
Dad wouldn't play pretend-princess-and-king with me anymore
Dad wouldn't go see movies with me
anymore
Dad wouldn't finish my popcorn before me anymore
Dad wouldn't force me to eat my peas and greens anymore
Dad wouldn't sing and rock me to sleep
anymore
Dad wouldn't let me sleep peacefully and soundly anymore
Dad wouldn't kiss my boo-boos goodbye anymore
Dad wouldn't help heal my scars
anymore
Dad wouldn't wipe my tears anymore
Dad wouldn't stop them from flowing for a few years more
Dad wouldn't piggy-back ride me up his back anymore
Dad just wouldn't carry me up anymore
Dad wouldn't fight the dragons in my head anymore
Dad wouldn't break down the walls he had built himself anymore
Dad wouldn't let boys hurt me the way he did anymore
It's been nineteen years, dad, wouldn't you want to be a part of my life anymore?