father

I Want Him To Be Like My Father…

Ask a father what it’s like to let a charming young man take his daughter; his beloved little princess.
Seeing him hold her hand as she walks out of his protective fold into another man’s fold.
Knowing she will never be his like she has always been, and still handing her over to the mystery behind that sweet smile….
Ask a father how he feels when he finds out she is a little worried, because he was not that charming after all.
Ask a father where he stands at when he learns, that, she cried because that smile was not all that sweet after all.
Ask a father what the words loss and hurt mean?
Ask a father what helplessness feels like?
Ask a father how it feels like to be weak in the knees?
Ask a father how insomnia is dealt with?
Ask a father how to manage a smile with a broken heart?
Ask a father how grief makes one fall terminally ill?
His unfulfilled wishes for his little angel haunt him. His vacant eyes want to cry to someone, shouting for sympathy because the tears that wet his eyes through the night go only but unheard, unanswered.
He invested everything he had and more; he invested himself in his cute little baby and nobody cared, or later, even realized what they had done to it, but, him.
It’s like someone just got the first copy of the first book they wrote from the publisher, and you take a fresh as air, plain white as pure milk, glossy as glass, sheet of paper from it, wipe your ass with it, crumple it up into a ball and flush it right in front of the author.
Like you go down to some old man’s garden, find their only beloved tree, that has grown with them for as many years as they have, called them out in their garden, and chop it down as they watch.
Like you slaughter someone’s cat right in front of them with a butter knife.
Like you put a long scratch down the bonnet of your neighbor’s fresh from the showroom Mercedes they managed to save for in 25 years.
Like you set someone’s house on fire.
Ask a father what it’s like?
He would give up everything to get his precious one back. He would hate you for trying to compare his feelings to anyone’s loss or hurt because nobody will ever know what it feels like.

When He Had The Chance:

Her mother can see, a reflection of herself, in her precious gem. When she manages to look once back into her mother’s eyes, similar stories roll down both their cheeks.
Nobody will ever understand the helplessness of a brave and bold man; so strong he could make everything go his way, when he feels weak, because, he can not help and, because, he can not change a thing.

 

Before you leave and let him be, ask the father, what he was like when he had the chance?

 

The credit for the featured image goes to Asim Salman. To see more of his art check his Instagram @asim_salman

 

An excited atom of emotions. I love all forms of art and expression. May God be pleased with us all.
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