When I was little he was my hero with an invisible cape
With stories in books we would together escape
He taught me the joy in words written down
He was my teacher but also my clown
We traveled a lot him and me
He showed me how fun exploring could be
We didn’t always agree even though he wanted my best
And at times I didn’t make him all that impressed
After my teens I so wanted to make it on my own
Not realizing that I didn’t have to do everything alone
For long I thought asking for help was the same as to fail
Like having a ship but not a single sail
Now I know that asking is not giving up
Maybe that is what they call growing up
Now I know that if I’m struggling or sad
I can always go and talk to my dad
It took some growing up to see
That we weren’t so different him and me
But still I don’t say this as often as I should do;
Dad, I hope you know how much I love you!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
, , enjoyed reading it, , nice, , , ,