A word, to the myriads who reflect on their truth
Was your father an angel, a drunkard, in youth
If truth be told, on this glorious day
Would you find love or rage to display
Some have forgotten or given a chance
To shoulder this moment, shared in advance
That dad was a coward, a monster you feared
Or said to him, miss you, so loved and endeared
For those living fathers, this day to reflect
Your children gave blessings to you in respect
Without them you’re empty, no father’s decree
It’s simple, to love them, a beautiful plea
To those earthly fathers who never were there
Whatever your reasons, your children despaired
Excuses were many, the burdens, your work
Pretense was your emblem, famed as a jerk
Some others are passioned, humbled in style
Never offensive, seldom beguiled
Their moniker, truthful, no lies or deceit
Filled with compassion, love, so replete
This day of the father, take time and return
The love of your children, the love that was earned
Before it was given, ‘twas God showed you first
To sacrifice all, in prose and in verse
Be nailed to a cross, the Son, glorified
His Father in Heaven, no ego or pride
The model was given when He gave His last breath
The love to His Father was put to the test
Then, so in thanksgiving, we come to this day
Honor thy father, the most glorious way
And to all you fathers, remembering, sighs
Your children, the answers, to all, and your whys