You know I admire you, dad,
for all the inspirations I have had;
I was the one you expected much from,
but I haven't let you down seldom;
Even though all my short comings pry,
my brim heart tries not to cry;
My eyes try not to leave tears loose,
like a heavy cloud trying not to lose;
And now guilt prevents me from showing my face,
'cause I have let you down against all your grace;
I still stoutly hope you can forgive,
for thats the thing that helps me revive;
In every thing I do now, I sense the incompleteness,
made by the lack of your contentness,
for this is why, I never again can be proud of myself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem