This was written by an Australian friend of mine who used to milk cows for a living, (doing rather well at the job considering he wasn't born to it). The poem is very poignant, even sad, I think you'll agree, (and I'm reposting it here as it didn't receive the attention it deserved elsewhere on the forum):
The peace of children in their beds
The peace of children in their bed
Denies the fears in a fathers head
He must provide, he must not fail
His children must, through their lives sail
It's up to him to pave the way
His deepest thoughts he can't convey
For deep within a fathers mind
Despite his efforts to be kind
Are doubts and fears beyond compare
For his little children sleeping there
They'll never know how hard it's been
To protect them from the unforeseen
Their lives will leave them unaware
Of the stress involved in a fathers care
Of his sleepless nights, his constant fears
Of his powerful love and joyful tears
As he watched them sleeping safe and sound
With no one to threaten, or their lives confound
As they grow and develop, and each achieves
He carefully informs, but never deceives
These two will remain intact and complete
Their dad won't ever, let evil defeat
The care and protection he's there to provide
No one can push a real father aside
But as they do, his children will grow
And the lives he provides, will never show
How hard he tried, against impossible odds
To spare their backs, from life's painful rods
In their ignorance his children will most likely condemn
The enormous efforts he’s made for them
For how can they know a life different to theirs?
Unless one of them actually, looks and compares
Their father’s pathway, and his life
Before he made their mother his wife
The children came first from then you see
There was no room for selfish, in his family
By hook or by crook, their dreams all came true
Their father kept working, he knew what to do
His children will never be living his life
Trying so hard, with such trouble and strife
Life must be different for his children you see
"I don't want my children living like me"
It must be accepted, sometimes kids fall
That's when a father needs only a call
Always there to lend a hand
Making a cubby or playing with sand
A joyful, carefree, happy life
That's all he wants for his children and wife
Yet here he sits, alone and confused
His efforts all wasted, completely abused
His family aren’t here, though he's done no wrong
What are they thinking, he’s been so strong
Look at their lives’, can’t they all see
Without his efforts, where they might be?
They’ve never cleaned toilets or others muck
They’ve never ever, been down on their luck
All they have known has been only the best
Because their father didn't stop to rest
He just kept going, believing they cared
Now they are hiding or running scared
But scared of what, he wonders aloud
He looks back at his life and can only be proud
He did his best, they can't deny that
Most other people are dipping their hat
To a man who gave more than many others
He put them all first, couldn't have his druthers
They all enjoy the best of lives
Let’s hope their good fortune always survives
That they never experience, such bitterness and hate
After such a great effort, as a dad and a mate
Things taken for granted, not actually seen
No one knows, where his strong back has been
Sometimes the very best of care
Can see a you alone, just standing there
Wondering why, you no longer see
A single member, of your family