This Sunday Felt Like Him

A Father’s Day Special Poem.

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This Sunday felt like him, Like my father, who hides his feelings, In the care he carries and in the love he spreads, The sacrifices he makes and the struggles he encounters.

His love is seen in those scoldings he pretends, In waiting for me to return home, In checking on me when I sleep alone, And in dedication to the family’s well-being, managing all.

Some evenings after coming home. My father brings us a surprise, We all never thought, After working hard for us all day long.

I have seen signs of tiredness on his face, But never seen him complaining even a single day, As children, we never really knew, How much of life he quietly carried through.

A child is always close to his mother, And has a sense of fear infront of father, But growing up, we never knew, That real love is in a silent stare, and not in loud sound.

This Father’s Day, I not only want to thank him, But sit beside him for a little longer, And listen to his feelings, Those were hidden in his old stories to be told.

Like how he never bought anything for himself, Without first thinking of us, And in how he made us feel safe, In that walk, holding our tiny fingers with love.

Words are few to describe him, In this poetry alone, And this is what makes fathers, The greatest soul, even before God.

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