The silent goodbye

One day your dad will stop calling your name,

And the house will feel strangely cold.

You’ll miss the little things he used to do,

The quiet love he never told.

He carried pressure you never could see,

While pretending everything was okay.

Even with pain hidden in his chest,

He still went to work every day.

He rose before the sun could shine,

Coffee black, no word or sign.

He fixed the roof, he changed the tire,

Built a world from his own fire.

You never saw his knees give way,

Or how he prayed for one more day.

He made your laugh his only goal,

While something heavy broke his soul.

You thought he’d always stay this strong,

Like fathers never break or fall.

But behind his tired and silent eyes,

Was a man who gave his all.

So hug your dad before time steals him,

Before regret becomes your pain.

Because when a father is gone forever,

No prayer can bring him back again.

So don't wait for a grand goodbye,

To see the tears he made you cry.

Call him now and whisper his name.

That same old love still burns the same.

One empty seat. One silent room.

One whistling kettle's lonely tune.

His worn-out shoes by the backdoor stand

A quiet map of a working man.

He wasn't perfect, but he was real.

He hid his ache to let you feel

That nothing in this world could break

The wall he built for your own sake.

Before that chair is cleared away,

Sit with him now. Let your heart say:

“I see you, Dad. I always will.”

Don't leave those words on a distant hill.

You’ll wish you knew his favorite song,

The year his own dad did him wrong.

You’ll want to ask, “Were you scared too?

When life was hard and dreams were few?”

But silence grows where voices freeze,

Between the doorways, keys, and keys.

He gave you roots, he gave you wings,

Never once complained of strings.

So ask him now. The small. The deep.

The silent cries and hurtful weep.

For one day soon, the phone won't ring

And that’s the sharpest, truest sting.