Once she was a child
her father would hold her hands
and they'd walk, walk along the dusty road.
She'd talk, expand phrases from two to three
And he would smile, try hard to understand.
Now she's no longer a child
No more holding hands
just walking side by side
Walking, talking, reminiscing
along the once dusty road
Things have changed
Time flew fast
but the moon that once watched them
is the same moon that now smiles at them
She is still her father's child.
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