Dad, I wrote this poem for you
A poem I wrapped with love wholeheartedly
The dream that Someday I want to be just like you "Be brave" you explain what the word life means
You who taught me how to walk Step in the godly path to desire
You who taught me how to read not only the letters but also the needs of others
You taught me how to count
One
Two
Three
One, two, three, you taught me to stand on the right and proper principles
Four five six, you taught me that anger should not be cultivated
Seven eight nine and ten, I realized that the word home is the root of the story you; you are the pillar of the house, so it is happy to go home.
You are still the first man I saw
You were the first man to be happy when he saw me
You are still the first man to kiss my cheek and lips
You are the one I always turn to whenever I have a problem, Yet you are the one I still call when I am sick Because you are the one who serves as a blanket when I am cold, and you are the one who serves as a pillow when I cry
You were still the happiest when I graduated
You are the person who taught me to be content, Dad, but why is this? since you got sick, I don't know what to do? But even if you are sick, why do you still care about us? Why do you still care about us? Even if it hurts us, you still think that you will always remember that we are here next to you, that you are always with us no matter what problems come in the world.
But one day I suddenly cried because a box came. I was so confused to see the body, I was stunned and called when the body suddenly exposed me, and I could not do it even beat my heartbeat fast that in an instant could not speak, stopped the world, the surroundings darkened, as the wind disappeared the contents of the box was the man who made me.
The man who could not be relieved has lost his life, the river will dry up, but not my eyes can beat the sea flowing in my eyes. The deceased will be buried but not my heartache. But why did you give up? I can no longer hold on when I have a problem; I no longer have a blanket to hug when I get cold. I no longer have a pillow that I always lean on when I cry without the Father, who always makes me feel that he loves me dearly. Gone, you are gone my so much crying I only had one prayer, that it would have been a bad dream, I counted a few minutes, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, hoping for me to wake up, but I failed because I did not it turned out to be a joke.
But my prayer is that for a moment, I want to hug you tightly because your warm embrace is what I want, a hug that I will miss.