Sunday, June 17, 2012

The Last Daughter


The Last Daughter

By Micaela Bicknell

The sky has been dark for many years.
You were gone from my life before I was born,
and love was not an option.

Accusations flew,
resentment hides,
to fester and wait for primetime.

A child waits eagerly for hugs
and kisses goodnight, ones that will
never come. Lovely reddish brown curls
haphazardly separated into two uneven
pony-tails.

Soft flannel pink night gown
covering from neck to ankle,
sitting cross-legged,
ears straining to hear footsteps
on the stairs.

Pillow full of tears,
heart full of hope,
this little girl fears,
that life is just a joke.

A girl is to adore her father,
and become her mother.

This fate was escaped
on a hot August night,
still clinging to the hope,
that it would end all right.

Joyous cries
Love, hugs, goodbye.
Hate, seething anger
ever since that awful
morning in June.

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