For What She Prays
She said, “Daddy, can we pray for Mommy tonight,
and hope that she’s okay?
I smelt it on her breath again
when I got home from school today.
I know that she is trying to stop,
but I think at times she gets so sad,
that she slips into the bottle again
not meaning to be bad.”
She said, “Daddy we need to help Mommy
in a way she might not like;
Even if it means she goes away from us
until everything’s all right.
This disease is not just killing her -
it’s killing me and you.
Daddy, I’m just a little girl,
please tell me what we can do.”
I saw the look of fear in her eyes
that resembles her mother’s face.
I knew that I could no longer ignore
our family’s little disgrace;
With her mother passed out on the couch again
I picked up the telephone;
and now for the next month or so
my little girl and I will be living on our own.
She said, “Daddy I hope when Mom gets back,
she’s the same mother I once knew,
before my little brother got sick
and died from the flu.
I hope she learns how to smile again
and remembers to hug me every day.
I hope she no longer needs to drink
and every night that’s for what I pray.”