This Is It

This is a poem about not being a little girl anymore . Especially daddy's little girl .



She's stares at her reflection.

Into her own eyes, she focuses.

Half her hair pinned up with pearls,

Letting the rest of her curls hang loose.

Her eyes as green

As a leaf of a rose, they sparkle.

The sunflower that surrounds her pupil

Stood out brighter than the sun.

Her peachy lips complimented

Her rosy cheeks as did her dark

Shaded brows and her black mask.

She took a deep breath,

"This is it,"

She said.

She stood up from the vanity

And walked towards the full mirror.

Her white laced gown was slim,

Complimenting every curve on her body.

She caressed her sides and eyed

Every inch of her dress.

Her eyes were starting to water.

Yet, she couldn't let a tear fall

For she needed to save them.

She gulped,

"This is it,"

She said.

The door suddenly creaked open.

"It's time."

They said as they walked her out

Of the preparation room.

Her four friends all with

Matching emerald dresses,

Nodded and smiled.

She locked arms with her escort,

Who wasn't her father.

As rehearsed, they walked to the doors

Of the ceremony chapel.

First the maids, then the little flower girl.

By then, she had a few

Of seconds to spare and cherish.

She wasn't a little girl anymore.

Though it seemed to have ended

A long time ago.

She looked up to the scenery.

Seeing the painted angels, she grinned.

Remembering the angel that couldn't

Give her away today.

She felt a comforting chill

Go through her body.

She still kept her head

Lifted up to the ceiling.

"This is it, dad."

She said.

The doors opened and

It was finally her moment.

She took small steps

And glanced at everyone

As they stood up to

See her pass.

Closer and closer, she got.

Her heart beating faster than time.

A couple of more steps left,

She made it.

Before the escort gave her away,

She looked up once again and nodded.

'This is it,'

She thought to herself.

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