A newborn once, the most perfect birth,
on hearing your cry, he knew your worth,
tears of joy as he held you to his chest,
of all the babies born that day -
his daughter was the best.
An infant once, your father's pride,
as you walked gently by his side,
for anything you wanted, he could never say no,
sweets and toys and colouring books,
as he took you to the store.

A young girl then, you started school,
he paid for lessons at the swimming pool,
competitions came and the rules were strict,
your father, how he beamed with pride-
when you were the swimmer they picked.

As you blew out the candles of a well lit cake,
your father felt a pain, a dull, heavy ache,
with both pride and sadness he shed a tear -
as he watched the little girl he raised,
celebrate teenage life with birthday cheer.

In with the posters of your favourite boy band,
centerfolds from magazines and your father lent a hand -
to pin them to your walls and from your bedroom door,
if you were happy, he was too,
a smile from you and he asked for nothing more.

Rows became a regular thing if ever money was tight,
because you could not understand - for you, it wasn't right,
to only have what you needed, what you wanted came second,
and when funds were low and he was short of change,
your respect for him lessened.

Popularity became important and you wanted to be cool,
sleepovers were essential for you to earn your place at school,
hair dye and make up, you wanted to look your best,
and when you chose the clothes that showed so much,
your father worried for the way you dressed.

Your body changed and your first cycle quickly came,
your father comforted you, tried his best to explain-
about the bleeding, cramps, the highs and lows -
brought hot water bottles to your bed,
held you close and kissed your nose.

Then came the first boyfriend, your father studied him well,
to check he was good enough, already he could tell -
he'd be the first to break your tender heart,
and when requested, your father stepped back,
but still dried your tears when it all fell apart.

Soon came your father's turn to cry, when one day -
he found the packet of cigarettes you'd hidden away,
his heart sunk and he wondered for how long -
you'd been smoking, harming yourself-
and where, as a father, he had gone wrong.

When home from school, he offered advice,
but you shook your head and rolled your eyes -
when he told you it was bad to smoke,
you laughed at the words of a wiser man
and ignored him when he spoke.

Come eighteen and you hit the town with friends,
although concerned, your father gave you money to spend,
"be careful," he said, "don't get drunk and keep your drink close"
for your father, he knew of the kind of men out there,
who would tamper with drinks, just to take off your clothes.

You listened to him not, his warning went unheard,
one alcopop to the next and your words became slurred,
you threw up on the street and vomit soaked your hair,
laughed all the way home then stumbled through the door -
sadness englufed your father but you didn't care.

Time passed by, you married and moved away,
you never called, or wrote a letter and then one day -
came a phonecall long awaited, a tear soiled your cheek -
as you were told of your father's passing -
you were unable to speak.

A fortnight later, dressed in black and still so numb -
your father's funeral had arrived, the time had come,
all respects paid and bouquets on display
as the priest finished speaking you stood up -
"Wait! I have something to say..."

Taking your place at alter, your head hung low,
"Daddy, I'm sorry, I really am, you know?
I'm sorry for the tears and all the rows that we had,
I'm sorry for the tempers, the moodswings,
and all the things I did that made you sad."

"I'm sorry for the times I came home late,
for every rule I broke, for every time I disobeyed,
you only ever wanted best for me, and I was blind,
to not see how much you loved me, Dad,
you were so loving, wise and kind."

"I never did tell you how much you mean to me,
but know that from this day on, I will aspire to be -
just like you; and if ever blessed with a baby of my own,
I will be a good mother, Dad, and raise my child -
with the same kind of love that I was shown."

04/05/2009