I live my days with words to say. Like how much i love you and happy fathers day.
When i hear others call their dad, my heart bleeds dry, and sadness creeps, and i wish, i would die, it is just that deep.
My feelings are untamed, i unwillingly cry. God gave me free will, until he died.
But i had a dream of my father. He told me to move on that is all i can remember.
I woke up with peace and smiled with the morning.
In reality i hate having dreams because they always bring back memories of what i have lost and not what i have.
I will end this poem with love your father until he fall, take not less of his joy but all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem