I Remember the Little Girl

revised from Daddy's Little Girl

 

I remember the little girl she used to be

in her bright tutus and soft-footed slippers.

She would stand on my feet as we waltzed,

which I couldn't do as well as I pretended.

She's my princess and the laugh as I twirled her around

keeps in my ear a sparkle of light.

I used to take her to the city, dressed up.

We would eat a fancy dinner and go see some show

where her eyes would widen at the magic of the stage

and I had forgotten every song she sang on the way home.

Somewhere along the way she grew up.

She stayed short, like her momma,

but her opinions grew into monumental mountains,

which she was unafraid to fight for. She kept away from boys

longer than most girls would. She knew her own mind.

She was young, and a fighter. She still is.

My little girl-- seems like she’s been to hell and back.

She lectures me about what being a woman means. 

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