There was a young limerick from Nantuckit

Recently, my daughter had an assignment in English class to write a limerick, and she asked for help coming up with something.  My first thought was of all the bawdy ones I can't tell her, so that didn't help.  Instead, I decided to write one of my own for her.  This is what I came up with:

My Dad goes to work from morning to night.
He works all day, never seeing the light.
  He brings home the dough
  to feed us, you know.
That's why I love him with all of my might.

She didn't like it.  I can't imagine why.  She has no taste, I tell you, no appreciation for fine literature.  Where did I go wrong?