My Little Book of Poetry

Being The Words of A Daughter

I was found after years of separation.

You apologized to me. You said that it was all your fault.

You wrapped me in your arms and spoke sweet words into my ears.

Words of acceptance. Words you claimed brought me home.

My home was a palace you provided. I was never hungry.

My stomach was always full. But there is more than one type of hunger.

You explained how to rule and how after your death, my younger sister would inherit the throne.

Why the child? You claimed she was blessed, and placed above me. That she would outdo even you.

I have wanted for nothing since I came. You have been good to me.

All I do is try to please you. My every action is to make you proud.

You explain how everything you do is for my own good. For my own betterment.

And I always fall short. I have failed. And failed. And failed in hopes of succeeding.

I trust you, father. I always will. You have ruled for many years. You know what is best.

We are a line of warriors, kings, and great legends. But I am not one of them.

You put your people ahead of your own wants. As a good king should.

I am a mother. A peacemaker. A diplomat. What good is a tender heart amongst judges and rulers? Mercy has no place on the throne.

Your people love you almost as much as l do. One day, I hope to prove my love.

You're right about me, of course. Sister deserves the throne. She deserves the recognition. She was and is the chosen one.

For now, I can only stand back and watch as you rule our glorious home.

I can only hope I'll be remembered as the daughter who tried. No matter if she always failed because of who and what she was.

You saved me from a horrible fate. Your love has made up for every moment those bandits ripped me from your arms.

But father, you must know. We all return to our childhood ways. I will always be a slave. And you will always be a king