Daughter, a poem by Steve Nickodemski at Spillwords.com
Kelli McClintock



written by: Steve Nickodemski


You came out like a banshee
That was then
Now you’re gone
It’s hard to comprehend

When you’re young
You don’t have a clue
Then they grow
And still need you

The band-aid in your wallet
Would always suffice
Now no longer carried
But it would be nice

That sliver of plastic
That could ease the pain
Now it’s more complicated
It’s not quite the same

You’re there to protect
Waiting to catch her fall
Twenty-four seven you stand
Expecting a call



My daughter is now twenty-six years old. I relish the time I spent with her when she was younger; however, I wish it could’ve been more. I was in the military, away from my family for months at a time. The band-aid reference is because I used to—and still do—carry it in my wallet for when she needed one. Growing up is beautiful but sad at the same time.

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