The Good Father
Went to the park the other day,
Watched my son as he played.
Just another glorious afternoon for me and my boy;
The good father's pride and joy.
A man approached us;
Had I seen him before?
Why he looked familiar, I wasn't so sure.
Seemed a bit sad;
Just couldn't tell.
Perhaps on the inside,
He lived his hell.
A river of tears ran along his cheek;
Touched my hand and began to speak.
"Don't know how to tell you this;
Thirty years ago I left behind a wife and two kids."
I know it made you mad; growing up without a dad.
Becoming a man, without my hand.
A single tear crept down my face,
Always knew this would happen some day.
Picked up my son and walked away.
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