Calloused hands, a tired smile,
Sunrise found him, working a while.
Breakfast rushed, a kiss goodbye,
Another day, beneath a weary sky.

Lunch break short, a sandwich cold,
Dreams of laughter, stories untold.
His back would ache, his muscles sore,
But for your future, he'd work some more.

Home at last, the day's work done,
Dinner dishes, battles won.
He'd watch you play, with gentle eyes,
Longing for stories, whispered lies.

"Just a little tired," he'd always say,
Hiding the dreams that slipped away.
Baseball games, he couldn't stay,
Work called again, another day.

Toys and bikes, a brand new dress,
He bought them all, no time to confess,
The love that burned, a silent flame,
Sacrificed his time, whispered your name.

Now older you are, starting to see,
The wrinkles etched, the man he used to be.
The love he hid, a treasure untold,
A father's heart, worth more than gold.

So next time you see him, weary and worn,
Know in his eyes, a love is born.
Hold his hand, whisper "thank you, Dad,"
For the silent love, the best he ever had.
© ͲᏀㅤJᴇғғʀɪɴㅤ☯︎