She's My Daughter's Age

My daughter is her age

How am I to follow this girl
into the swords and spears of the enemy
when she is my daughter’s age?
she stands looking up at us and
we looking down
presenting to us the battle plan.
her small, thin, childish voice,
barely heard over the deep, loud voices of full grown men,
is feeble compared to past commanders.
she carries no weapon
only a small dagger
which her petite hands hold in the fashion of amateurs.
she wears the thinnest armor available,
her immature body unable to carry anything heavier.

She’s my daughter’s age

Her unruly hair,

[...] Read more

poem by Luz Gonzalez
Added by Poetry Lover
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