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Your Father Would Be Proud of You

Your Father Would Be Proud of You

In shadows cast by memories untold,
A tale of loss, a heartache so bold,
A man who, in his youth, did face,
The absence of a guiding embrace.

His father, a beacon, strong and true,
Taken too soon, life’s unfair hue,
Left him adrift, a ship on the sea,
Longing for love, for his father’s decree.

Years have passed, the ache remained,
An empty void, still unexplained,
Yet fate had a plan, unforeseen,
To bring solace, to bridge the ravine.

One fateful day, a stranger did appear,
With eyes that held empathy, crystal clear,
A gentle voice, like a healing balm,
Saying words that pierced through sorrow’s calm.

“Your father would be proud of you,” he said,
The words like whispers, soft and thread,
A cascade of emotions began to rise,
Filling the well, tears welled in his eyes.

The man, his heart now a river of pain,
Felt the weight of those words, a tender refrain,
In those few syllables, a love rekindled,
A connection reborn, though long since dwindled.

A surge of memories, like a flickering light,
The father’s wisdom, shining bright,
The lessons learned, the values instilled,
A legacy carried, his spirit fulfilled.

Tears flowed freely, released from the dam,
A torrent of grief, no longer a sham,
For in that moment, he understood,
The depth of love, both old and renewed.

His father, though gone, still dwelled within,
A spirit guiding, an eternal kin,
The stranger’s words, a gift of grace,
Unlocking the floodgates, tears on his face.

Amidst the pain, a newfound embrace,
Of the love that endures, defying all space,
For in his heart, his father resides,
A constant presence that never subsides.

So let the tears flow, a cleansing rain,
Honoring the love, the eternal chain,
And as he weeps, he begins to see,
That his father’s pride will forever be.

In every step he takes, each triumph and fall,
In the strength he displays, standing tall,
For his father’s love, a guiding light,
Illuminates his path through darkest night.

So, dear one, when those tears do start,
Remember, deep within your heart,
That your father’s love remains ever true,
And in that love, he would be proud of you.

A Poem by ChatGPT

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