I'm Your Daughter

I'm Your Daughter.
  The one that sat and talked to dead trees,
  And had mysterious bruises on her knees,
  She always wanted vanilla ice cream with rainbow sprinkles on a cone,
  And had to have the soft baby skin on her right knee sewn.
I'm Your Daughter.
  The one who couldn't write her name in a straight line,
  And always grabbed her brother for every picture time.
  Who liked going down the big yellow slide at the park,
  And left her light on 'cause she was scared of the dark.
I'm Your Daughter.
  The same girl who loved Ernie and Barney, bunnies and lambs,
  And took forever to eat chicken cordon bleu cause she'd pick out the ham.
  And loved long, flowery, poofy, little party dresses,
  Who made pictures of splotchy purple fingerpaint messes.
I'm Your Daughter.
  Who you spoonfed, and who had big, brown eyes under thin hair,
  Who cuddled as a baby with a little teddy bear,
  The girl who once loved listening to NSync and the Backstreet Boys,
  And who set up little towns and cities with Playskool toys.
I'm Your Daughter.
  Who drew with crayons on the family room wall,
  And jumped in piles of brown and red leaves in the fall,
  The little girl you took every year to the Bronx Zoo,
  And into the city to some Broadway plays, too.
I'm Your Daughter.
  Who wore the Limited Too, Claire's, and the Children's Place,
  And used to play YAC Softball on second base,
  She used to ride her bike up and down the street,
  You woke her up in the morning by tickling her feet.
I'm Your Daughter.
  Who was never afraid of roller coasters, spiders, or school,
  And ate apples with peanut butter on a small wooden stool,
  Who painted colorful pictures in many art classes,
  And accidentally lost two pairs of eyeglasses.
I'm Your Daughter.
  Who doesn't like math; she prefers social studies,
  And looks at you weird if you call her friends "buddies",
  Who now enjoys dancing around the kitchen singing songs,
  And now has a cell phone, money, CDs, and thongs.
I'm Your Daughter.
  Who you drop off at night at the Jefferson Valley Mall,
  And, as you do, always remind to "Remember to call!",
  Now she goes on dates and gets rides home from boys,
  Who you yell at at home for making so much noise.
I'm Your Daughter.
  Who IMs for what seems a hundred hours online,
  And stays after school for whatever all the time,
  Who loves drawing and dancing, and acted in "The Music Man",
  Who was on track and did pretty well when she ran.
I'm Your Daughter.
  The young girl who might come home drunk one night,
  Prepare yourself for plenty more late night fights,
  Soon to drive, and soon to graduate,
  Soon to get married and move downstate.
I'm Your Daughter.
  Same girl who loved angels, who fell and was caught by you,
  Same girl, your firstborn forever, no different than the girl you knew