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.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem