Childish Dreams

Sweet little doll, you’ve never said a word.
You’ve been on my mind, you may have heard
Your momma and I, we aren’t really talking
It’s been a long time since I went a-walking.
If my memory serves, you’d be almost 8
And in my dreams, honey you’re doing great.
When you lost your first tooth, wish I’d‘ve been there
Money under the pillow doesn’t show how I care.
Christmas shopping, sometimes I pick things
that you might enjoy, white gold diamond rings,
a puppy, a kitten, a new dress or some mittens;
I worry about times in you’re life you’ll be smitten.
I missed your first steps into this cold world
You’ve done well for your self, sweet little girl.
You made straight A’s in all of your classes
You’ve given the world rose colored glasses.
I wish I could say that I’ll make you proud
As you look upon me from your highlighted cloud,
But I know who I am and for that I’m ashamed:
A drunk and a washout of inconsequential fame.
I use to believe that I’d be someone great
And I was in that moment that you were made,
It’s the failures of vision and selfishness
That I left myself in this lonely mess.
I never imagined myself with your stroller
Or the high chair outgrown as you got older,
The crib to give to a neighbor family –
All of these things seemed too much for me.
I made these choices and now I live with them
A bed of roses with thorns in their stems.
I thought that I might be doing you a favor
There’s a taste in this life that I’ve never savored
There’s people that’s poor and people are wretched
I thought I could save you from all of this hatred
Unkindness abounds and the world seems to conspire
That people in charge will always reign with fire.
It was the hungry and starving I thought you shouldn’t see
It was a distortion of myself that I’d wanted to be.
I figured you deserved something a little better
Than this haggard world on a tarnished platter.
I’m not asking that you think of me
You’re only daddy is what I can’t be,
On your way to dance class or violin lessons
I’ll keep you in my heart, a private confession.
Soapbox Artist: collecting art & literature of the worst kind