To my Father

Where I’m from there’s one thing above all.

Kings, money, gods.

It sat next to my daddy working his graveyard shift.

Looking at a family photo, he worked harder to make that extra dollar.

He gave up his youth to put food on the table for his children.

Some call it pain.

I call it love man.

It’s what my dad had to pay to provide for his children.

To me he said, “I want just one thing

For you to grow up healthy and kind and without worry.

I’ll work harder than other fathers and win!

I’ll do everything for you, so just be good to your old dad.”

But I grew up, cold and indifferent.

Comparing you to other fathers and asking for more money.

Constantly nagging you on your way to work.

I didn’t see the calluses on your hands.

Or the loneliness you silently carried and weighed your back down. 

The world is scary, and you want to run away.

Good lord please save him from this struggle and pain.

As he swallows the tears and brushes off the dust to stand back up

Thank you dad for holding it in every single day.

You are forever my superman.

Damn, only now do I realize how you lived.

I love you even though I never once told you.

Much time has passed but you’ve still kept together the family.

Rest comfortably now that you’ve done your job.

When your tears well, let me walk next to you and hold your callused hand.

From now on, I’ll always be there for you.