This is a poem that an adult would give to his or her father on Father’s Day.

My short story after my father died.

Living right, no matter the cost.

A brief insignt into the dairy of a father who suffered in life, without involving his children in his agony.

Be quiet, sit down, things constantly told to children, and even then there is no peace, no rest, when can one get a break? Break Divine… even God rested a day and I wonder what he did with his day off; I bet he didn’t sit in his room in fear of.

Should I blame birth; as they say we are all born into sin, so I have yet another father figure to blame for not only such sin but my fear. Root of Fear… I have no willingness to claim it but here it grows and knows that I am afraid; am I alive?

The man in the picture is a man who willing to sacrificed his life for the sake of his family. That is who he is, my father. Seeing tears flowing from her eye, I suddenly remember the time when my mother was really angry with him.

Something I was challenged to do.

Meaning of Dad.

This writing is a haiku, remembering my Dad’s kind ways.