Little Girl

I looked up to him so much. He was the only thing I knew I needed. In a man. He was strong, and his hands wide. Oh his hands were so powerful He could do anything. My superhero and my strength Pushing me without effort Carrying me when I fall. Then I wrote the letter. As I finished the last line, confident I knew I would make him proud of me The letter sat on his desk The light from the desk lamp bright Against his silhouette. I’ve grown up, I thought. This is it. He’ll bring it back to me with a smile. Proud of his little girl. His strong hands passed me back paper But it was not my letter. It was his image not mine. Inked into my heart. Totally rewritten, I thought, this can’t be I took so much time perfecting it for him I asked him why it was changed He didn’t want to care why I asked He said it was all wrong. His face like stone. I sat alone in that room for hours. I can’t let them read what’s not mine. I am just as good as him. For the first time in my life.. I feel alone. Things would be different now. I’ll leave the little girl at the bottom of the waste basket With that letter. Good bye, Daddy.