Daddy’s Little Girl

Shrouded in mystery he lives in a world of solitude

His crypt-like silence frightens her

Confuses her

Intimidates her

From the shadows she studies him

Ever wondering

Ever searching for a glimmer of love in his eyes

But like a corpse he never looks her way

He doesn’t even know that she’s there

She feels invisible

Worthless

Like a discarded rag doll

But forever lost in a solitary place

He doesn’t see her tears

He doesn’t hear her heart breaking in two

 Shivering against the freezing cold of isolation

She builds a fortress of anger around her heart

She no longer wants to sit on his lap

To feel his strong arms wrapped around her

To hear him call her daddy’s little girl

She wants to fight him

Hurt him

Make him pay

And she does only to hurt herself in the process

It will be years before she learns this though

Years of striking against the phantom of her own soul

Years of chasing the wind for answers that didn’t exist

She is old now and like an unfinished novel

The mystery shrouding her dad remains unsolved

But in her wisdom she embraces the harsh reality of life

Her heart is no longer enslaved to knowing the answers

Or wishing her dad had been the dad she wanted him to be

She learns to forgive

To love and accept him as he was

And in her own heart of solitude and mystery

she is and always will be daddy’s little girl

~Sandi

Author: Sandi Staton

So, I'm sitting here trying to figure out how to describe myself to you, and these are the words jumping up and down in my heart: I'm just a simple human being living in a complicated, messed-up world. I speak my mind. I love hard. My feelings run deep. When push comes to shove, I stand my ground. Sometimes I push back. Sometimes I walk away. I've surfed the crashing waves of life that threatened to destroy me only to make me stronger. I bear the scars of emotional rape, sadness, and depression. I've walked the golden streets of churches and religion only to be disappointed time and time again. And as a result, it's taken me seventy-five years to get where I'm sitting today; a sinner saved by grace through the blood of Jesus Christ. I fell at the cross. I repented of my sins, and Jesus saved and washed me clean. I still fall flat on my face. I still get dirty as a pig in a mudhole. And Jesus still picks me up, dries my tears, forgives me again and again, and continues walking close beside me. No one has ever loved me like that. And no one ever will.

Digital Photo Painting

Using Paint Shop Pro 2019, I turn ordinary photos into works of art. I also create picture tubes, bookmarks, Facebook Covers, cards, tags, and more. I don't sell my art, therefore, all my creations are free for your own personal use.

No Facilities

Random thoughts, life lessons, hopes and dreams

THE POETIC SAGE

This site is dedicated to my amazing writing skills.

Straight from the Heart

He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. ~ Psalm 147:3

hometogo232

A place of Love and Security

%d bloggers like this: