Becky Niwagaba
Some days came easy, others hard;
And some days didn’t come at all;
But whatever day came or did not;
There was nothing that could measure,
Nothing that could compare to the endless nights of pleasure.
The apologies were endless too;
He couldn’t carry on like this;
Couldn’t always give in to my pleas for an encore;
More often than not, he was always worn out from all the persistence.
With an early morning planned for the next day.
But I was having none of it;
None of his excuses.
This sometimes unfulfilled passion,
Only left me desiring more.
And this is how I feel asleep each night;
A satisfied little smile on my face,
Lying in his warm embrace.
There was nothing like bedtime stories from daddy.
