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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2180670
My daughter

What's the point in all this doing,
when the world will just keep screwing
me into a downward spiral-
badly I want more.

What's the point in still believing,
when this life is so deceiving
me into a place I ventured
madly once before.

When you peered into my being,
When I felt delight in seeing
far beyond the nature of man
sadly, I abhor.

Yet the precious hand so gripping,
keeping me from slowly slipping.
When the light that shines from her eyes,
who could ask for more?
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