Michael Swope
Untitled: She is of my flesh…
She is of my flesh,
She carries in her, my blood.
The apple of my eye,
I hate to see her cry.
Her life may be a struggle,
Her glucose is always changing.
Four times a day she must prick,
Three times a day she must stick.
She is as tough as nails,
She is as smart as a whip.
What she does not know,
Are the lengths her daddy will go.
Her age is almost twelve,
Yet her burden is quite large.
I would relieve it if I could,
Any good father would.
My wish is to see her happy,
My dream is to see her thrive.
I want to watch her grow,
I hope that I am first to go.