The Cruel Part Is

I remember the first time I saw you fresh out of the womb a trial for your mother. The fear I felt, not knowing how to be a father Not sure if I could provide, keep you safe. I remember the first time I held you so fragile We were both so fragile And for three years, I gave you everything I could. The cruel part is I thought I was doing a good job on the days you were dying. I thought I might have figured out being a Dad. Now The only good job I can do is to remember you.

And I remember you. I remember you.