I'm sorry I missed your birthday.
I'm sorry I didn't get you the teaset with the fancy pots.
I'm sorry we didn't get a garden teaparty with Mr. Stuffles
and the pink balloon giraffe you asked me to make.
I really would've liked that.
I'm sorry I missed your dance recital.
I'm sorry I didn't get you enrolled with the best teacher in town.
I'm sorry I couldn't get you those fancy ballet shoes that
I just knew would hurt your feet.
I really would've liked to.
I'm sorry I didn't start you a college fund.
I'm sorry I didn't work 80 hours a week at four different jobs
just to make sure you could go to the best schools,
eat the best lunches,
play with the coolest kids.
I'm sorry I didn't build you a crib with these two hands,
teach you to waltz,
show you the secret of the perfect pancake.
I'm sorry I never taught you how to change your own tire,
be an independent woman,
one with good judgement, grace,
a strong personality,
and your mother's perfect eyes.
But mostly, sweetheart,
Daddy's sorry he got angry.
He's sorry he yelled,
sorry he accused,
sorry he was unforgiving in his principles.
Sorry that he could live easier without you if he never held you
than if he knew you were so beautiful.
Daddy's sorry he made the decisions he swore he'd never make,
sorry that his petty anger kept you from his arms.
Daddy's sorry, little princess, that he never got to meet you.
He just hopes you'll forgive him.