She’s gonna learn that this life will hit you, hard, in the face, wait for you to get back up so it can kick you in the stomach. But getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air. There is hurt, here, that cannot be fixed by band-aids or poetry, so the first time she realizes that Wonder-woman isn’t coming, I’ll make sure she knows she doesn’t have to wear the cape all by herself. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. Believe me, I’ve tried.
This is part of a poem by Sarah Kay. I saw her perform it on TED below. She also did this one. I loved her performances and wanted to share part of her magic for National Poetry Month. I've attached her books to this post as well, but the full text of the poem this except comes from, B (If I should have a daughter), can be found here. But it's so much better to watch her perform it.