Because of the things I feel inside

A sheet of paper is the only friend

With whom I can confide

Anxiously my heart would wait for you

But with chains your heart was tied

I could not share my tears with you

Maybe that’s why I’ve never cried

Father, I write every poem for you

Because my soul is in much pain

I don’t understand why you have gone

Leaving me out in the pouring rain

Didn’t you know how much I needed you?

Or has your love for me been slain?

If mine were the power to travel through time

I don’t think I’d go back again

Father, I write every poem for you

Even though you are never here

My heart breaks every single night

Beyond mending it is I fear

During the day I usually think about you

Wishing that magically you will appear

Since you don’t, I must continue to write

Because crying makes it hard to see clear

Copyright ©2004 Anthony Hall