A uniformed heart
Dad may not say the perfect phrase,
He may be lost in grown-up days.
But every night he comes back home,
To understand how much you’ve grown.
He watches close, though not too near,
Afraid you’ll shrug or disappear.
He listens hard when you half-share,
And learns to pause, to just be there.
He may ask twice what you just said,
His eyes look tired, nodding head.
But still he tries, and still he stays,
To meet your world in newer ways.
He may not get your music right,
Or memes you laugh at late at night.
But still he asks, then asks once more,
Trying to reach your inner shore.
He might not know your favorite song,
Or if your answers take too long.
But still, he waits, behind the noise,
To hold your dreams, your fears, your voice.
He walks the line of strong and soft,
Still learning how to lift you aloft.
You may not see the grace it takes
To hold your storms when his heart breaks.
He sees the flicker in your eyes, the battles fought in muted sighs.
But still he shows up every day,
Learning your world, your teenage way.
He speaks of self, of lessons earned,
Of roads he’s walked and bridges burned.
But deep within, his truest part,
Hopes you’ll outshine his every start.
He lived a life in olive green,
Where orders ruled and fears were seen.
Far from home, in lands unknown,
He stood for more than just his own.
Simi
Simi says... 