Artistry

Your eldest daughter knows how to sing all of the words that I cannot even articulate

She has rhymed and reasoned beyond my belief and understanding of the word adoration

I only know how to stand in the corner and watch

I hope that this dream come true isn’t ripping both your bank and our hearts intertwining

I don’t want you sit an orphan in the wind; I am here forevermore

It doesn’t matter anymore, I just need the earth on your side, for your peace to be kind

I really didn’t know that this knocking would turn into an age-old battering

Or that I would get sick of the feeling

It never was an easy cream-coloured road

That took you as you were

You’ve beaten and been beat up around the brambles

You have tried and you have lost

You have been hung by the man in the moon

And tricked by a goblet of glory

The berries are full of poison

Though the apple is still ripe

I would take your feelings

I would take your hurt

I would take your artistry

If it meant that there was a peace

A place of happiness that you could be

I did not leave you behind; I never can or will

You inspired my flourishing, evergreen, blush-silk ribbon-embellished soul

I am everything you could have been

But now, I, your youngest daughter, would rather take your blows