She’s my first-born.
A chip off the ol’ block.
She’s got my sense of humor.
She’s quick to laugh.
She’s quick to anger.
Intensely thoughtful.
She’s been my shadow.
She’s been my purpose.
She’s my legacy.
She’s my daughter.
And I miss her so much I’ve eaten an entire sleeve of crackers, 1/2 a block of cream cheese, and a half a dozen m&m’s just writing this poem.
….wait. That doesn’t fit the rhythm, does it?
I never was a poet.
Mama Boe 