There are stories that never make headlines, but live in the hearts of millions. This poem is a voice for the unheard, a father’s quiet plea for time, dignity, and the right to love without borders. It’s about hope, memory, and the fight to simply stay present.
While looking at the sky, I ask,
Why must I run for the same old past?
Tell me—how are you truly better,
That I can't breathe in the same weather?
Please don’t mind the shade of my skin,
It’s just a little darker—that’s all within.
Please, don’t push me out the door,
I still have hands to build, to pour.
I’m just a wandering soul, you see,
Trying to light a path for me.
My daughter’s waiting, full of grace—
Don’t make me miss her smiling face.
Look through my eyes, not over my name,
And tell me that I still can claim
The right to dream, to work, to fight—
To stand beside you in the light.
Please don’t take this hope I bear,
I’m still the one who shows her care.
Not every border draws a line…
Some only need a bit more time.
The time need not be now, I swear—
It can wait 'til I’m no longer there.
Just see me as a man, not threat or ghost,
Here to raise the one I love the most.
Let me stay ‘til my breath runs short...
Please… don’t cut this story short.
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