Some people accept and don't
accept differences.
That's what my father would tell me.
There's always that one person
which people spot the difference in.
When I tell my father what has
happened to me, he knows
what I was going through.
Maybe I got my grief from him.
He was surrounded by dark
shadows just like me.
We share the same misery.
However, when I lay there,
on the ground, I can see him
walk over and reach his hand
towards mine.
When I hold his hand, I feel
courage moving down my veins
and boldness going towards
my heart.
And my father, whispering,
"It's going to be alright,
my little girl."
YOU ARE READING
Linked (Poem)
PoetryInspired by true events This poem is written for my father. When I struggled from my cruel mental health, my father would always tell me how he felt the same when he was younger since he had poor mental health as well as a child. The meaning of this...
