My father owned two houses and a dragon robe

where he would step in and out

but never to my home.

Father, you could rule your kingdom as you wished

claiming you were the only king

but you could never hold on to me


I was the drifting wind

vividly I could chase after you

when I was your girl

or was it just a bubble?

Where the air was too dense

and too murky

then I got lost.  


Father, father, where were you?

Why did I only see this broken girl

who was trying to see through the cracked mirror

to remember your disguised face?


I closed my eyes

and fainted into this bubble

where I could be your actual daughter

not just that little girl

but suddenly it broke.

Then I fell hard

but you weren’t there

when I was scared


Dad, dad, dad

Let me call you my dad one last time

to keep this bubble still

so that I can see through the mirror

One more time.



CC BY-SA 4.0 That Fragile Bubble by Zixuan is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.


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Youth Voices is organized by teachers at local sites of the National Writing Project and in partnership with Educator Innovator.

CC BY-SA 4.0All work on Youth Voices is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License
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