Days play on through decades.
Another needle to the arm,
And suddenly,
The little girl who calls you,
"Daddy,"
Can't jump into your arms.

She's much to tall.

And she remembers that day.
In the Arkansas fall,
She waited for the moment,
When you emerged in the driveway.

She thought,
"Not today.
I won't smile and pretend,
Everything is okay.
I will not cry into your arms.
I will not jump for joy into your,
Falsly,
Loving arms."

She thought she might accept the change,
instead she might,
Punch you in the face.
She might bite your hands when you,
Predictably,
Grab her to examine her face.

**"The years change you.
Look at how you've grown."