Dearest Daughter Poem Novels & Stories

"Papa, if someone troubles you, tell me, I will scold them! They can't mess with my papa, he's the best, so if you feel sad again and you miss us, you can call back, okey!? " The words that a daughter that she had not share blood with pierce him like a shallow beast, craving his uncertain heart, cleansing his mind, and giving him time to appreciate the efforts of his daughter. She won't know that for him, she is but his true daughter no matter of blood, no matter of her origin. He was very well happy to have her as his own, as his daughter because Sapphire is the light of his life. He smile and tried his best not to cry. "Okey, I will, I promise, thank you. "

Just before the new school term started, my daughter's parent group chat, which had been quiet for ages, suddenly announced that the first parent-teacher meeting of the semester would be held that night. The rule was: both parents had to attend. A long string of "Got it" followed. I was about to reply when I noticed someone had beaten me to it. A guy with a family photo as his profile picture sent a voice message. "I'm Emma Sullivan's dad. We'll be there!" I froze. I clicked into the member list and checked repeatedly. My daughter's name was Emma Sullivan. He said he was Emma's dad. Then who the hell was I? I immediately called my wife. Before I could say a word, I heard her cheerful v

When I try to defend everything, but what we hold can go by itself. Then the child in the dream, the miscarriage? My daughter, I'm sorry mommy's not good at looking after you. Mommy loves you very much. Can mommy catch up? Mommy is no longer strong and no longer has any hope of survival. Yesterday I survived for my daughter, now that my daughter is gone. Gone are the numbers of my life expectancy to stay.

"He's right, though. Stay off the bike. We don't want anything to happen to you." We. I'm being raised by everyone and no one. My dad's not with Toren. He's one million percent committed and in love with his wife, my mother , his teen sweetheart. But she's gone now, and my father is a thirty-two-year-old rock star with a seventeen-year-old daughter, trying to act like he's not broken and lost and on the verge of losing the very definition of his shit. But I know better. He's afraid something's going to happen to me too. That I'll be here one moment and gone the next. And I don't blame him for feeling that way at all because I feel it, too.

Lily lay so still against the crisp white sheets, her small chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. I moved to her bedside on silent feet, not wanting to disturb the precious rest she so desperately needed. My fingers trembled as I reached out to brush a stray curl from her forehead, her skin was so cool beneath my touch. *What a pity soul,* I thought, the words catching in my throat like a sob. I don't want to lose my daughter. I don't want her to suffer. I don't want her to die. And Marcus, where was Marcus when our daughter needed him most? The thought brought a fresh wave of anger, hot and sharp. While I sat vigil beside our dying child, he was probably somewhere else which I

I muttered. As I finally opened it, Daddy's handwritten letter greeted me. It was so beautiful, his penmanship captivating despite his masculinity. My Dearest Celeste Koa, My love, I'm certain that when you lay eyes on this letter, I'll be no longer by your side. Or perhaps, it has been a while since I've been away from you. I just want you to know how much I love you, Celeste. When you entered our lives, we didn't plan everything, but I was overjoyed because finally, I had a daughter who I'm confident will continue the legacy I'll leave in this world. You became my strength and weakness during times when I could barely rise from sorrow. You served as my inspiration to carry on with a life f

I couldn't contain my happiness, my face lighting up with a radiant smile that stretched from ear to ear, baring my teeth in sheer delight. Hearing my daughter refer to me as her mother filled me with an indescribable joy, a feeling so profound that I would have traded anything just to experience it again and again. If only I hadn't let fear hold me back in the past, if only I had been brave enough to face the truth. I considered myself fortunate to have a daughter who placed such unwavering trust in me, even though she remained unaware of the reality. It was as if the moon goddess herself had intervened, guiding us through the darkness and offering understanding when we needed it most.

She stood tall. On fire. Alive. Her daughter was coming home.

"Is the most beautiful daughter a father could ever hope to have." "Oh, Daddy. I may be beautiful yes, but I am still really cold."

She was the ally I had been searching for. So, under the guise of an anonymous fan, I penned her a letter, baiting her with the story of 'the mother who wouldn't spare her daughter $80 for living expenses.'