Someone’s Daughter

Let me exude sympathies,

let me pour out my simple heart.

I work my words

respectfully in kind and in part.

That soon comes

thoughts of whom we as people are.

Not for some superficial

essence of lust that superficially spars.

At odds I’ve been

with how the world works and goes.

Yet one thing I

believe in my heart to the core know.

Is that though we

are as beasts upon the open plain.

We were selected

as a species to operate with a brain.

Though we recklessly,

in youth and otherwise, innocence slaughter.

That as a man I see

a woman is particularly someone’s daughter.

Lust was never spoken

under the house I called a home.

Never did I know of

two parents separated leaving me on my own.

Fate’s hand intervened

I suppose I was built this specific way.

In my home I had a sister

and respect to her was had even unto today.

I knew of the rod

that can be utilized in my father’s hand.

Respect did I emotions

of my Father’s ideas to women command.

So I leave you with

romance you find here now and within.

I explain this now

I harbor words with no thought of sin.

Judge me you will

I welcome it as I would anything else

that would edify

and help me stand to look at myself.

For I could never

without the ideas of a notion spread,

words of love and passion

without respect to whom a woman calls Dad.

2 Comments Add yours

  1. kristianw84 says:

    Love, love, love this!! It gives me what I call “heart squeezes!”

    Liked by 1 person

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