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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.



Written by Becky Niwagaba (1)

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A Story, Part 4 – 257-0224

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