Daddy Can’t

Daddy Can’t

She held it up with tiny hands
It had suffered quite a blow
“Goodness, how’d this happen Dear?”
Lips trembling, “I’se don’t know!”
Then she sobbed, “Please fix it!
Like new, so I’se won’t cries!”
Tears rolled down her rosy cheeks
As she rubbed her soft blue eyes,
He could repair – most anything
With a patch or with a screw
Mend and blend a damaged part
With a “master’s touch”, or glue,
He was a regular Mr. Fix-it
Be it big or be it small
But helpless were those manly hands
To fix – Daddy’s girl’s doll,
How could he make her smile again
To delight-enthrall-enchant
How could he make her understand
And tell her … Daddy can’t!

D.C. Butterfield

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