Whitney

Whitney says she wants to swing. " Faster, faster daddy," sticks with me. Holding on like a bee sting. Wind blowing her gentle hair with every pass, as sweet memories sufacate me of when she plays in the grass. I just want to hug her every damn day, but I hold on strong knowing I can't, as I'm Knealing to pray. Whitney says she wants pink bubble gum. Maybe we'll walk to the store and get some. In my heart she stays with me, endevor knowing she is my wisdom, my strength, my baby Whitney...