You called me Princess, you called me doll & when I was growing up you called me superwoman, I loved it all as it was so much fun, But you never called me your son You never called me your son As that would have meant that sons are better But for you the difference never mattered It didn’t matter whether I wear frock or I wear shorts Whether I play with doll or with cars On my graduation, you opened a bottle of scotch from your bar Whether it was an adventure sport or a trip to Iraq You encouraged me to pursue all the things I didnt see many girls at these places Because it was their fathers who didn’t give them the wings I don’t say it enough, but I am really thankful For not only giving me this life but letting me live the life I am not your son neither I want to be For you taught me that a good kid is what I should be
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