My Dad

My son when I was younger,
there was a man I called my dad.

He was a man I much admired,
and when we kept company I was glad.

But like others of his day,
he thought he needed to be strong.

And so he bottled up his feelings,
for oh so very long.

It caused him many problems,
with his children and his wife.

And it took from him much joy,
that he might have had from life.

Then when at last he realized,
just where he had gone wrong.

He felt he was to old to change,
because his strength was gone.

But despite his faults there is one thing
for which I now am glad.

I never let another
be the man I called my dad.

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