You say a father’s supposed to be strong
That’s why you can’t break down in front of me
But you can
You say a man’s supposed to be strong
That’s why you can’t break down in front of me
But you can
You say that you’re supposed to be strong
For me
That’s why you can’t break down in front of me
But Daddy, you can
You tell me that I don’t have to hold back my tears
That I can break down in front of you
That is what you are here for
But it’s what I am here for, too
You don’t want to cry
Not in front of me
But how can you expect me to feel open
To sharing my feelings
If you won’t do the same?
True strength is in sharing our pain
So we may heal together
Cry with me, Daddy
Let us finally heal
Author’s Note: Tomorrow marks the one-year anniversary of my mother’s death. My dad and I have been talking about it a lot, how it makes us feel and all that, and my dad brought up how he can’t break down around me because he’s my father, he’s supposed to be strong for me. I just want him to know that I want him to feel as open with me as he wants me to be with him.
About the Creator
Stephanie Hoogstad
With a BA in English and MSc in Creative Writing, writing is my life. I have edited and ghost written for years with some published stories and poems of my own.
Learn more about me: thewritersscrapbin.com
Support my writing: Patreon
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