What I Would Not Give

nothing I would not give if just to freeze the image of that sweet, adorable kid: the every pain and hurt that to me would drive her for the aches to disappear; the shrieks of excitement when to the air I’d toss her then catch and hug my girl; her chocolate-stained face, the few missing front teeth, daddy’s lovable, little clown; the time she took a full jar of her mama's facial cream, all over herself spreading it; catching me kiss her mother “you are breeding with mom!" “sweetie, only rabbits breed"; the grasp of her tiny hands, her tremor “dad, I'm scared" on that first day in school; happy days back in the past, in baby's eyes I could not err, her knight in shining armor; alas, daddy's girl yesterday, now some boy's sweetheart, unmistakably gone from me; oh god, what I would not give to relive the years long dead, to be my girl's hero once more.