Just when I think my patience is spent,
And I have no more strength to abide,
Her demands and her mood swings never relent,
Then she shows me her softer side.
Not a lot different from other teens,
Her room is a mess, her music loud.
She’ll speak in a language—don’t know what she means,
Then she’ll do something to make me proud.
She talks about music, running and boys,
Waffling from elation to despair.
Make-up and warm-ups have replaced other toys,
But her life, she’s still willing to share.
She’s so busy, she’s always gone in a flash.
Seems our relationships’s always on the mend.
We misunderstand, we bicker, we clash,
The she tells me I’m her best friend.
My fondest hope is to keep it that way.
She is truly the light of my life.
I’ll hold on to her, as long as I may,
Until she becomes some lucky man’s wife.
Her father will tell her to “be who you are,”
“And everything will work out in the end.”
“Just be Maddy,” he says, “and you’ll go far.”
Maddy, my daughter, my friend.