by Rower Girl

Created on: April 20, 2009

Interpretation of Sylvia Plath's poem "Daddy"

Your boot is in its place, trampling on my broken face.

Blood is shed, tears are cried, I am you no more.

Daddy, where are you?

The beauty in your soul has fled, left in its place a black hole.

You do not care, you do not care.

As you look upon my trembling brow, your stare is cold and your face bare of expression.

Familiarity is lost on you. You take a blow to my face.

War is declared, just how I feared.

Oh how the dark cloud of drunkenness has befallen you.

Your cries for help are muffled.

No one to help you now.

The needle pierces your skin and blood drips down, down.

How you have tried for so long, and sung the same song, over and over.

Yet the drugs still consume your body, beating down your dreams, your pain.

Washing them away in the coming rain.

You become the drug. And as I watch you die and suffer, I suffer too.

And as your boot meets my face, I scream for you, and scream for you but you do not hear my plea.

Daddy, you are a ghost. Your clear blue eyes fade gray. Your plump lips go thin. Your face, gaunt. What more do you want?

Your boot hits me once more, the most painful of all; I give up!

I claw and bite at you, but to no avail. My body is draped in a pretty white veil.

Daddy, your hands are covered in warm young blood. No remorse.

Murderer! Murderer! Murderer! Everything you had, you killed

Daddy, you are gone to me, gone as the wind flies free.

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