A father who could be mean,
A daughter who couldn't have foreseen,
A father only love did he have for her,
A daughter who didn't understand...it was all a blur,
A father too weak to overcome the poison,
A daughter never knowing all was over...all was done,
A father alone, with his little girl as his last thought,
A father now taken by death, his last battle he had fought,
A daughter finding only in death, how much he really loved her,
He kept every poem, every note, every hand drawn picture,
A father who loved his daughter, now gone forever,
And the very fibers of the daughters soul, severed.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.