My Father's Daughter

I am my father’s daughter

There is no doubt

When I bite my fingers

And scratch my head

When I lose my way

In my own home town

When I arrive an hour early

Just to be sure

When I refuse to cry

Or tell you how I feel

 

But I am my father’s daughter

Indeed, it’s quite true

When I smile through the sadness

That threatens to take me

When I say “I’m fine”

To spare you the trouble

When I forge on through the darkness

Facing my deep-rooted fear of the unknown

When I let each small victory

Grant me the strength to continue

When I scream “no” to those thoughts

That whisper “they’ll be better off”

 

Yes. I am my father’s daughter.

And I think, that’s quite possibly the best thing I could be