In the quiet dawn, before the world awakes,
He rises to face the day, a silent sentinel,
His dreams set aside, his hopes on hold,
For the love of his family, his heart is full.

Hands worn and calloused, a testament to toil,
He labors in shadows, his sacrifices unseen,
Through storms and sunshine, steadfast he stands,
A fortress of strength, a beacon of dreams.

The weight of the world upon his shoulders,
Yet never a complaint, never a sigh,
He bears it all with a quiet grace,
His love like a river, deep and wide.

And though he may not speak of love,
His actions resound, louder than words,
A father’s sacrifice, a gift so pure,
An eternal flame, unwavering and sure.