I just know my cords will quiver
Eyes flood with gratitude
Voice swell heavy with tears
Simply futile to say ‘I love you’
You would smell the speck
Hear the slightest waver
Feel the pulse in my neck
The twinge in my demeanor
And you would start the crusade
Negotiate, barter with the creator
Praying and fasting long, I’m afraid
to bring back the smile of your daughter.
So, write her a sonnet, my heart whispers
And meekly comply my servile fingers.