A Fathers Little Girl

I woke up one morning and my little girl was sliding on lip-gloss. I woke up one morning and my little girl had hips and breasts. I woke up one morning and my little girl was beautiful. I woke up one morning to a boy on my front porch. I woke up one morning to my little girl crying into her pillow. I woke up one morning to my little girl’s broken heart. I woke up one morning to my little girl’s battered face. I woke up one morning in a prison cell. I woke up every morning with a need to protect my daughter, my little girl.