She Was My Daughter

I knew what she would be if I left her there,

In that house full of despair,

A broken doll full of fears,

With Mummy high and Daddy drunk,

So I took her and left without a trace.

She was my daughter

That I was convinced,

Innocent eyes and auburn hair.

She smiled up at me with hands held high.

She was my daughter,

I loved her most.


Now at five, she stumbled around

Looking for a way to tumble down,

Down from the tower I kept her in,

Protecting her from all the sins.

She looks at me with glistening eyes

Pointing to the window

And asking why she cannot fly,

Fly like the birds that match her hair

So I picked her up and pulled her close.

She was my daughter,



I found her crying one day at twelve;

She found a dead bird,

Cold and alone.

It was a robin that matched her hair.

She made me bury it in the grass below,

And I looked up at her with growing hope;

Maybe my love had done enough.

Her hair as tall as she,

She pulled it around her in misery

She was my daughter,

Cold and alone.


She was now eighteen,

A woman grown,

Standing by the mirror that showed

A broken doll with hollow eyes,

And asked the question I feared to hear

“Am I yours?”

I stare at her long auburn hair,

Rapunzel, my daughter.

She flees to the window.

My daughter,


This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741