Fathers, we may blame them, hate them, and find them a nuisance, but do we ever stop to appreciate them?
The life of a father
It’s not a sprint it’s a marathon
Have to see forever and after
‘Cause when his time comes, his child carries on.
Ideally, live life like a martyr
But in this day and age it’s quite long
There’s the mother, who gave birth
He has to keep her happy
Or his life could reverse
Meaning, his seed ain’t seen him since they wore a nappy
Mother has told their child ‘happy ever after’, her verse!
He returns, their child a product of her ways and society
He has to come clean, he missed his time to rehearse
Then there’s society
As a man he has to pave his way
And become accepted, genuinely
Or he could find himself with his soul to pay.
Through childhood, adolescence and adulthood, consecutively.
Social experiences, that’s his life day-to-day
Then there’s Life, is he satisfied with the bed he made?
Is he able to walk with pride?
The friends he met along the way
His parents, was he chastised?
Then there are the girls. Was he chivalrous and treated them all okay,
Did he have his fun, which included the serial lies
Or did he just have the one lady, truly satisfied
His steps, they pave him day to day,
For it’s his body to walk in, mind to matter and soul to portray
If he lives right and freely then his child will willingly obey
And watch as daddy lays the way
If it’s a son, ‘I wanna be just like you’ – the biggest compliment his seed can say
If it’s a daughter then ‘daddy, you showed me how to be a lady and you did it your way’
Regardless, the life of a father, quite simply the hardest, most under-acknowledged job with no financial reward
Because everyday he fulfils living his own life simultaneously with his child’s and for this there’s no accolade
No global party or recognition for achieving his feats, just the happiness he gives to his family, friends, and the seed he nourishes
‘Cause when his body expires, from that moment on his child will be the answer to:
Who was he?
His mind and soul living eternally