The Weight of Kevlar
By Ryan Stryffeler
Yesterday I was helping my daughter get ready for school
She put on her Kevlar backpack while I tied her shoes
“If anything happens, I love you” I said with a smile
And gave her an extra-long hug to hold her close for a while
And smell her thick hair, place my lips on her scalp,
For a moment unconscious of anything else
I looked at her then, so trusting, so pure,
So ignorant of what she’ll be forced to endure
They grow up so fast, everyone says
But why must growing up bring her closer to death?
