She laced her shoes and tied her bow,
Then heard a bellow from below:
“Get your bag and get your coat,
And grab that paper that you wrote.
Hurry up and come this way,
I don’t have time for this today.”
She made a face and downed the stairs,
Trying to leave behind her cares.
In her bag a secret lay,
“What is that?” she heard him say.
With a blank stare across her face,
She knew he would her dreams erase.
“Shoes to dance,” as she looked down.
He held his hand out with a frown.
She handed him her precious shoes,
“Young lady, you simply cannot choose.
You will study, read, and write,
Regarding this you will not fight.”
And in a flash her shoes were gone,
As was the hope she drew upon.
Later after school that day,
As she knelt by her bed to pray,
She looked up to find pink shoes,
All unlaced and ready to use.
In the door her father stood,
Managing what smile he could.
“I am sorry, you should dance.
Your mother never had the chance.”
Tears filled her eyes as she hugged him tight,
Put on her shoes, and turned off the light.
