Little me: drawing for daddy Adult me: poem for daddy

In the quiet corners of a page, I began with hues of hope, Each stroke a whispered plea, To fill a void, to set me free.

I poured my soul into the book, Seeking solace in colors bright, Hoping to find peace within, In the soft glow of candlelight.

But the tender sketch grew frail, As shadows of doubt did wail, A tale of two souls adrift, Yet destined for separate shifts.

I paused my hand, heart so heavy, As tears mixed with the colors plenty, For paths diverged, destinies split, A truth too complex to commit.

Yet before the final hue, A presence emerged, a guide so true, No longer a memory, but a beacon bright, Guiding me through the darkest night.

Resolute, I resumed the quest, Brushing away pain's bitter zest, Each stroke now a declaration, Of self worth, a bold revelation.

Helped me see beyond the pain, To embrace the now, not in vain, And as I finished, colored through, I felt a newfound, deeper view.

With the last stroke, I set it free, A page now filled, a testament to me, In quiet corners, I found my voice, In colors bold, I made my choice.

Thankful for the journey shared, For lessons learned, for hearts repaired, In whispered echoes of the past, I found solace, peace at last 💖