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Rated: E · Poetry · Children's · #1412998
My six-year old sweetie.
I work all day - the nameless, faceless shadow in the corner box.
Now I'm free - five o'clock - yabba dabba doo!
Now I'm Mario Andretti, racing for the checkered flag of home.
Now I'm a spy - peering around the doorway as she plays in the corner.
Jessie sees me - now I'm blinded by her brilliant smile.
She runs and jumps into my arms - now I'm a roller coaster, spinning, swooping.
Cheek to cheek, she hugs me forever, but never long enough.
I'm her boyfriend - she's going to marry me someday, she said so.
She leads me on safari to the grocery store in her tutu and cowboy boots.
We dance to Disney songs - she's so light on my feet.
Now I'm the most vicious, ugly monster - killed hundreds of men,
Yet she slays me with her invisible sword. I die horribly.
She brings me back to life with a kiss on the cheek. Now I'm her pony.
I'm ever amazed at the greatness she sees in me. Her real-life hero.
A giant, warm and fuzzy superman who knows everything.
If it's lost, I can find it - if it's broken, I can fix it.
I can cure most ailments with a single kiss (serious ones require ice cream.)
I'm instant protection from brothers and thunderstorms.
I know that in time, in her teens, I'll be the cruel heartless prison guard
But right now, she's six, and I'm a pony - giddy-up, cowgirl!
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