When you're little, you look up to your father;
A man who's always there for his little daughter.
He supposed to be there to dance and play,
and, maybe, even sing with you all day.
Your dad is the man to push you on the swings,
so high you feel like you have wings.

My father always had the whitest smile,
just like my dress will be when I walk down the aisle.
He always put his hands on his hips,
and flashed a smile yet not on his lips.
His eyes would twinkle when they met mine,
no matter the situation, he make you laugh every time.

My fantasy world was shattered at age five,
when my father stopped breathing and wasn't alive.
My mom cried and our family shared hugs,
yet there's still something on my heart that tugs.
That constant reminder of what my life was,
some people say it hurts, and I'll tell you it does.

But don't feel too bad, my life is truly great;
I promise this experience didn't fill me full of hate.
I love my dad and my step-father too,
some people say, "That's impossible to do".
So my life continues and he's still dearly, I miss,
How I said goodbye -- it was with a kiss.