Daughter, a Sestina

A product of love is a daughter.

Bury her in lies

So she can never achieve self love.

She's not the image they wanted her to be. 

It's nearly punishing to fathom loving something you don't truly want. 

A father has burned bridges he once struggled to build. 


Wrap her gingerly in your lies,

Pick her up and place her on the pedastal you handcrafted to build

Her up once more. She's never felt so much love

In intertwined, laced, and spliced false hope. Tell her what you want

For her, though she's not your daughter,

You can mold her into everything you wanted to be. 


This girl once wanted to build

A world of purity in her mind assembled of lies. 

A father set her up for failure, despite the "un"conditional love

He claimed to so passionately possess for his daughter. 

She yearned to be 

More. She began to strive beyond a petty want. 


But how petty can that be? 

To want for more than the lies

She had injected into her veins. She didn't want

To live with the addiction. A daughter 

Of God now buried in a home of sin must build

A new home, the only one she's ever had that's constructed solely of love. 


She holds the potential to be what you want.

However, do you truly want to fuel an addiction? Build

Her tolerance, in no time you'll be nothing more than another father figure. Be

the light in her life to guide a failing's man daughter

To purity. You can create what she should have been all along—a product of love.

Her knees are bruised and burned from pleading at his feet, "Stop the lies." 


She needs you to be

Better than her. She needs you to love

Those pieces of her that no longer hold enough innocence to hold the title "daughter." 

As if stripping a childhood would build 

A woman. She still fears what lies

Beneath her bed. No one taughter her to protect herself from what she does not want. 


By an unfortunate distortion of events she was meant to be a daughter

Of lies, not love. 

He succeeded in what the blueprints were meant to build because she was a everything a father engineered that no one would ever want. 

This poem is about: 
My family


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