History of Sorts

A quarter century of time,
Where every wrinkle tells a rhyme,
Of sleepless nights and whispered fears,
Of laughter soaked in joyful tears.

I held you first with trembling hands,
Unsure of what life’s new demands
Would ask of me, a father now,
Yet love alone would teach me how.

The tiny cries, the first small steps,
The lessons taught, the secrets kept,
From scraped-up knees to dreams you’ve chased,
I’ve watched you grow, I’ve seen your grace.

The years flew fast like summer’s breeze,
With first words, schools, and memories.
Each day I gave what strength I had,
Through all the proud and tender glad.

Through wins and losses, joy and pain,
Through sunlit days and pouring rain,
I’ve stood beside you, firm and still,
A heart that bends but never will.

And now you stand so tall, so free,
A mirror of the best of me.
Yet still I see that child so small,
Who taught me love could conquer all.

Twenty-five years, a father’s tale,
Of love that never will grow frail.
With every chapter yet to write,
I’ll guide you still, through dark and light.