The Fathers Prayer. My love is the firm hand that greets the man not good enough for you. My love is the shouting, the discipline, the silences. My love is the hidden tear that lurks upon my eye, at each achievement. My love is the moaning, the groaning, the teasing. My love is the photo in the wallet. My love is the simple name in a birthday card. My love is for you, and you only. And as I cradle you now, little baby, my love pours freely, and everlasting.
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Sienna Williamson
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misslittleDHP
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