• When I hear my father come down the hall,
    first I stop and then I stall.
    When I hear his shoes squeak,
    I know that he wants to *beep*.
    When he comes into my room,
    I know that it spells my doom.
    When he leans over my bed,
    my heart becomes filled with dread.
    When my father goes on these hikes,
    this is what my father likes:
    "Through the Alps and in the cave,
    this is what my father craves.
    Duck duck but with an "F",
    his yelling makes me go emotionally deaf.
    Duck duck but with an "F" instead of a "D",
    this is what he does to me.
    Punch and hit until I am sore,
    I cannot take this anymore!"
    -----
    Then when he walks back down the hall,
    no one will ever notice at all.
    But nobody knows what he had taught her,
    is the relationship between loving father and daughter.