Not dead a year yet
Already almost gone forever
Jenny, your name,
Never to be spoken again.
I won’t have the chance
To tell you stories
And show you pictures
But I will hold those memories for you
As long as I can
Among them will be
Holding your one hour old hand
And my promise to watch over you
For the father you never knew
Lost by construction bravado
Carelessly leaving you alone
And less than half protected
[Jenny’s dad was killed on the job before she was born. I stood in for him at her birth. After her mother, my sister, died, we raised her as our own daughter. She died at 40, childless, barely making her way through life.]
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I thought keeping Jenny's secret when she left 610 Durley would prove to her just how much I loved her....I was so young and ignorant
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