Anne Winter Poet Rhyme

Little Stacy

There's a house, enormous and aimless.
But there's a mural on the wall that's shameless.
It shows a little girl
In her dress that twirls,
Crazy though she seems.
In her eyes, hurt beams.
Her father just stands there,
Getting nowhere.
His back turned on her.
It's all just a blur.
But his eyes are so cold,
Saying things so cruel and untold.
Although her lips are sealed,
However, they still squealed:
"Dear Father,
I'm not a bother,
I'm not crazy,
I'm your little Stacy."
Doesn't she know she won't get a reply?
Why does she even bother to try?
Is she mad? 
Or sad? 
Or bad?
Who knows?

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Kim Rodrigues May 4, 2025 at 5:49 AM Stacy is not the problem. She deserves the attention, to be seen. Her father needs for light to return to his eyes, to see the little girl, the gift in front of him. Life can be so cruel. A friend of mine wrote a heartbreaking yet beautiful book (this year) called “Sweet Daughter of Eve,” by Claire Ostrander. Her mother was a nightmare, her save was a godfather. Hugs Anne Winter May 4, 2025 at 6:33 PM Dear Kim, Stacy was never the problem. Her father never cared about her. Maybe he never will. Life can be so cruel, indeed. Who knows who will be a savior for Stacy. Thank you for sharing 'Sweet Daughter of Eve' - I'll make sure to read it, I've added it to my to-be-read list. Best, Anne