The Weight of Wings
In the quiet hum of the morning light,
He ties her shoes, her laces tight.
Coffee cold, but hands still warm,
He shields her life from every storm.
A single voice in a world so loud,
He stands alone, yet fiercely proud.
No one sees the sleepless nights,
The battles fought without a fight.
Lunches packed with fading grace,
A tired smile on a weathered face.
Homework sprawled on kitchen floors,
Stories told of dragons and wars.
He trades his dreams for peace of mind,
For little hands he hopes stay kind.
Each dollar stretched, each moment planned,
A world rebuilt with just two hands.
He teaches strength with gentle eyes,
And holds her close when bedtime cries.
The monster’s gone, she’s safe, she’s near.
He’d slay a thousand just to hear.
“You’re safe with me,” he softly swears,
As weight and worry climb the stairs.
His armor: bills, his sword: a will,
To keep her light when all stands still.
He walks alone through judgment’s stares,
Through whispered doubts and empty chairs.
But in her laugh, his purpose lies,
In ponytails and lullabies.
He knows the world can break and bruise,
That innocence is quick to lose.
So he becomes a wall, a flame,
A soul who loves without a name.
A father, yes, but something more,
A lighthouse on a jagged shore.
Not perfect, no, but always there,
A single dad, a love so rare.