Wrestling through the years, winning and losing many times,
fighting for his lost father through everyone he wrestles
with over and over.
Always feeling the loss of not having a dad around as he
was growing up, trying tirelessly to make up for it.
In trying to prove to everyone else that he is a man, he
only succeeds in bringing his father's ghost in focus
again.
Walking away with trophies and medals is a poor substitute
for a loving Dad.
Learning to let go and walk away on his own, his father's
ghost will haunt him no more.
Facing it straight on and thinking, feeling it through,
talking to someone about it who cares, will help it
disappear from view.
Then he can get on with his life and loosen the control it
has of him.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Me too feeling tired and defeated but shall be wrestling till last breath of life. Regards.