For Beautiful Sasha
Were you my Daughter, I too would hold
Your childhood sacred, and allow you to grow
You and Malia are of equal import
That's ever clear.
Your strength may differ, your color your build
Sweet Child one Day you will see the you as we see
You may think forgotten, but no my love
The Nation watched you as you grew.
Such grace and shy reserve
If I could but tell you just how proud
Your carriage, shoulders back, head held high
That mischief I see reflected in eye's.
Your Father I assume
Gentle, and sweet, yet determined to fight
For a place you think that's not in sight.
Your physical make, your inner strength.
Your Mother it's clear
But little one what I want to say
Were you my Child I too would try
To hide you away for no less than
Age forty three.
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