She Called Me Daddy

She called me ‘Daddy’,
But I was far from being her father.
I discovered the dollars would pay for this dance to last a couple of songs,
And as long as my hands dictated the rate of pay,
She obliged me, break a couple rules, well she didn’t say.
But it was understood to look but not touch.
Just look and be touched.
Just look at her tattoos of tropical flowers, hid this gem’s flaws,
From the abuse she endured from her son’s father.
Who wasn’t her father,
but she use to call him ‘daddy’,
Maybe because he told her what to do and spoiled her.
And during their relationship,
She perceived slaps to be love taps, and after an apology and make up sex,
He told her he loved her.
But how can he say that if he showed the opposite,
And how could she ever recognize the meaning of what love from a man merited if she wasn’t taught it.
It was just four letters, like her name.
Green eyes like the color of the gem and just as calloused from bad travel but the beauty it possesses can’t be hidden.
But back presently, she asked me, “don’t you love the way I dance for you daddy.”
But I was far from being her father.
And yes, she seduced me
That’s why over her Naked flesh, I slid a couple more bills under her garter.
Her exposed breasts hid that broken heart
From her fantasies about being in dance recitals and having her father give a round of applause.
But her mother was the only one clapping.
And her parents had problems that had nothing to do with her birth
But her worth was based on him not being in her life made her still feel guilty.
He didn’t have the decency to teach her dignity.
So she continued to ask herself, “Why daddy don’t love me.”
And mommy tried to explain but its just not the same.
She was jaded, with one son who’s father was no longer around,
She masqueraded and danced and depreciated in value
long before these clowns and fine paying gentlemen in this club worshiped this misguided goddess as bitch and hoe.
Low and behold, she was missing validation a man brings to a family.
Please believe, if Jade wasn’t deprived of a man’s knowledge to save his daughter from the lies boys would tell her.
She probably would’ve changed history. Her perhaps her story.
Or she probably would’ve still been a stripper but she wouldn’t be sitting here calling me ‘daddy’ because I was far from her father.
No mistake made for bringing home the bacon but being a protector and making sure self esteem was reinforced beyond the lies she was told by poets.
Wouldn’t he have taught that her body was a temple
Regardless of the graffiti, inside should possess spirits
Nearing the end of this lap dance
she asked me,
“‘Daddy’ did you love it?”
And I’m far from being her father and maybe
Maybe that’s why I could only place a small price on something so priceless and beyond value.
You see this has nothing to do with her being a stripper
But pointed out her value would’ve been preserved if her daddy was a father.
Because I could’ve bothered to change the name from Jade to Jane,
And the occupation from exotic dancer to receptionist or anyone free lancing.
The question wasn’t why her mother wasn’t able to reach her
the answer is her father should’ve been there to teach her
That thing called value
The only man a girl will ever need to depend on
should be the first and last man she calls daddy…
Or closest man to being her father.


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