I hurt her feelings with a rhyme
And she was only small
I was a little flippant
And she didn't like it at all.

I only tried to show in words 
A pride I have for her
But she threw them back at me
As if it was a slur.

Perhaps when you are seven
You have principles, plain and straight
And the world should take notice
For next year, "I'll be eight".

So to my wounded girl I say
Do not be angry or sad
For I think you are really wonderful
Love you lots......Dad.