Over there a father
Is dancing with his daughter.
She is wearing the earrings,
He has only just bought her.
She, innocently swaying,
And moving to the beat.
Is wearing the pink sandals
Upon her moving feet.
Her name could be Stephanie,
Or Joyce or Jane or Faye.
In any case, she likes to move,
To dance, and swing and sway.
Oh, that no harm should come to her.
And the troubles of adolescence
Be endlessly deferred.
Oh, let her dance, and play for good.
I wish I had.
I wish I could.
I wish I could wear her shoes,
Her jewels, her crown.
Now I have to work,
Be serious, and frown.
There is no play without pain.
No childhood without chains.
Now I am free,
For I have done it.
My own accomplishment.
My own merit.
Thursday 4 & Tuesday 9 May 2006
Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Justine Knolle.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 09.05.2006.
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