Daddy’s Little Princess

Daddy's Little Princess

 

There is a battle that has raged for many thousands of years. In fact, this battle has been fought since time immemorial and will continue until the eventual heat death/collapse/explosion/whatever of the universe. I refer, of course, to the war between girls and their fathers. We don’t know who struck first, fathers or daughters, but we know that it was the daughters that scorched the sky. Sometimes alliances are formed and daughters live in peace with their fathers. Sometime the battle is not particularly bloody. Sometimes, however, there is simply no common ground and they cannot see eye to eye. This is a poem about fathers and daughters.

Daddy’s Little Princess

My dad is a loser
But thinks that he’s cool
And he’ll gladly use force
To bend you to his rule

He’s really embarrassing
I can’t escape
He thinks he looks smart
In black gloves and a cape

His voice, deep and threatening
His speech, harsh and curt
He’s bitter and cruel
And he knows words can hurt

In response to my anger
And acts of defiance
He called me a traitor
With the rebel alliance

 

My Dad's actually a pretty fungi

My Dad’s actually a pretty fungi

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