I didn't really know my father
Until It was far too late
He reached out so many times
To engage me…but I couldn't wait
Far too self-absorbed
In my self-centered life
To reach out and take
Hisproffered, time worn hand…
And so it will be (and is)
With my own children
Who will likely never know
How many times I too, offered my hand
How many tears were held within…
How many heartaches endured…
How many emotions n'er expressed
How helpless to even reach out and touch
But he cared…and he tried to share
His life and feelings (as did I)
But sadly…to be a good dad…of'ftimes
Meant to look to be bad….
While Mothers enjoy a hallowed place
A father's lot…is not to be so
You don't ever really, trulyknow your father
Perhaps there's just not that much to
…know…
143 words-24 lines
A poem of self exploration. Each of us are uniquely created. There is and will never be another you. This is the inherent problem we find in knowing another. All of us are full of surprises even to ourselves. A fine poem.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very grateful poem to the FATHER beautiful poem penned