Family Father Poems | Examples

These Family Father poems are examples of Father poems about Family. These are the best examples of Father Family poems written by international poets.


For Girls Pregnified by Their Fathers

Though Sorrow May Sleep,Justice Wakes


O child,don't hang your head,never bow in shame,
Your tears are rivers angels swims through deep,
He took your piece but Heaven knows his name-
No crimes of his can't in God's silence sleep.

Duck low,my soul,through ashes, sing your pain,
The Lord hears through church bells crack  fade,
No evil seedling can flourish in that rain-
No sin can hide underneath cross he made.

So walk and walk through dark and broken lands,
The good will fly you when your faith grows small;
Their hearts are lamps lit by love's hands,
Their arms the choir that catches those who fall.

Rise,daughter,-rise,and clap your ways ways anew,
The storm is fierce,but God still walks with you.


Why is my father always angry

Little darling, thy fada wears a garland of frowns,
The breda must explain their jokes to him across the night,
Worry devours his heart,his wallet emptied of light,
Fallen sistrins and soaring debts weigh him down.

Parasitic friends,the firewater that hauls him down,
Your mada' open relationship haunts him without end
You poor black girl,his paternal duty no hand can mend,
So little darling,mockingbird sings sagacity' gentle crown.

'' Motivate him'',cries nightingale,'' seek angels that heel,
Set calm and clear,boundaries firm and the rule of right, 
Recall the days when Rastafari made his soul bright ,
Technicalized guidance cuts through despair and anger's steel.
Sistren and fada ,simmer down a little bit,sooth the strife,
And read The Holy Piby for blessings in holy Jah life''


Glossary of Useful non pompous English terms:

Fada-father
breda-brother
sistrins -sisters
mada--mother
Rastafari--the best religion
technicalized-professional
Holy Piby-Bible of Rastafari

Premium MemberMy Father

My father's always been and is a good man.
For my siblings and I he does what he can.
For me, he showed what kindness means,
And how women must be treated as queens.

My father's always giving me what I need,
So hopefully when I someday succeed,
I can give back to him in ways that matter,
I just hope it is not too much later.

My father cares for our family from afar.
Whenever we visit, our love is a shining star.
He taught me to never go to bed angry
At anybody, 'cause we don't live eternally.

My father is my first teacher of philosophy
In treating all of Earth's humanity fairly.
He taught me that change begins with me.
He is the reason I learned how to just be.

Spite in shouts

cold
calculated
formal
scared

words describing the features i bare
the ones given to me by the force beyond my control
by hands and words that shaped my mold

are you proud, are you happy
do these words bring you grace
knowing i never have to come back to your gaze

escaped from the prison
and the holding cell
the room i locked myself in
a confinement in hell

churned and burned
like sand into glass
i evolved my thinking
to be faster and at last

I broke from your grip
even if you say it was held dear
at the end of the day i choose to disappear

Daughters

Glowing all your own
Radiant aura brimming warmth
My daughter my heart

Hidden strength unknown
Restrained by fear and doubt
Depth of heart protects

Both so similar
Silent bonds enshrined in love
Shared foundation


Premium MemberDad

It is hard to write
About Dad.

I feared him
As long as he lived,

Still do.
It’s sixty-two years since he died.

He’s still alive in my dreams,
A little shorter,

Just as bald,
Never a smile.

Dad expired when I was nineteen.
His disdain for me outlived him by four.

My fear has abated little,
Terror is a trap that clamps tight—

If you amputate 
That part of you dies too.

Failure, anger, and resentment
Not all setbacks make us sour.

You’ve had your share no doubt—
I hear you keep your cheer.


Dad hired on as the church gravedigger 
(a job that suited him).

First holiday I came home from boarding school,
He asked me to help dig a grave

For Uncle Joe, his brother-in-law.
Watching me peck away at the ground 

Frozen four feet down
He seemed, for the first time, content.

Next time I saw him look 
Satisfied was at his wake

The priest mumbling prayers,
Mother wailing, tears in my eyes,

One hundred fifty at his side.
I saw a twinkle in his eye,

Someone else had dug the hole for him.

WHEN THE TIME COMES

When the time comes
In this long life of mine
Most of my life worked out fine.
There were a lot of times I had to ask for help.
And sometimes I had to figure it out myself.
Sure, I made a lot of mistakes.
And in  my life I got a lot of breaks.
So right before I go will have no regrets.
And this family of mine is my biggest asset.
I always knew this family of mine would be great.
This family of mine never had hate.
However, they are available if you wish to debate.
Sometimes I feel like I still have more to give
But whatever it is, I have no clue.
Today, as I look in my family's eyes
Deep down, I know I won the great prize.
Every day you all live in my heart.
And nothing will ever keep us apart.
I know deep down your love will always shine on me.
And I know that will come with a one hundred percent.
Guarantee

Me Dad

Didn't make old bones, me dad,
Taken from us far too young
Barely reached his sixties when
He was killed by Farmers’ Lung.
Too many dusty threshing days,
Noxious fumes dipping sheep,
He seemed to live a life
Just to eat, work and sleep.

A farm labourer which made
Him a man of many skills,
No time for a doctor’s visit,
No time for potions and pills.
Loved greenhouse and garden
But he loved even more
Lonely walks across the fields
Carrying a loaded twelve bore.

Not a sportsman shooter,
No, everything he shot
Very gratefully accepted 
Into the family cooking pot. 
A man of quiet wisdom who
Set me standards to live by
And most importantly showed.
A man at times is allowed to cry.

We never really did talk much
Never did have much to say
Sitting watching the old TV 
In our quiet companionable way. 
He looks back at me in the mirror,
As I look back at him with pride
So glad I could be with him
At his side the day he died.

I sat there with quiet pride
For I really hadn't suspected
That my dad had been 
So very well respected.
The church was packed
On his funeral day 
Most of the village came to
Quietly send him on his way.

The Song of Father P2

My son—
do not run.
Stay close,
the world is full of snares.

I have carried you
through nights of thunder,
through roads of hunger and dust.
My arms were a shield,
my breath your lullaby.

But now—
I cannot hold the storm.
My voice cracks,
yet still I sing:

My son, dear son,
walk gently,
do not stumble.
Your name is carved
in the marrow of my bones.

If the earth swallows me,
remember this:
I fought for the light
so you could rise.

Sing my song when you are weary.
Sing it as your shield.
And know—
even in silence,
I am beside you.
© Elai Cee  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Memberfor dad

Happy Heavenly Father’s Day, Dad … I miss you like a ghost misses heartbeats … all my love.

       ~

midst all of heaven's blessings

          my treasures, known and had

               not one can best the miracle

     that fate made you ... my dad.






Copyright © 2025 Gregory Richard Barden

( photographic art created copyright-free by the author and family )

Little Princess

Every little girl has one wish
They try it to see how it feels
It could be plastic or cardboard
It could be bright, shiny metal
No matter what, she sees a beautiful crown
She could become a princess
Honored when her daddy bows to her
For a few minutes, she is royalty
In her mind, no matter what she does in life
She will always be the only princess
Just because her daddy says she was.

© Poem XIV/IX/MMXXV
LRET

Premium MemberStanding proud

My dad had thirteen siblings
worked for every thing he ever got
many hand-me-downs but no handouts



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Children of Divorce

Children of Divorce 

Divorce
A curse
On a family
Who once was happy
Never to feel the same
Feeling like they are to blame
For this never ending game
Just wanting to be the children they were before
But they will always be the children of divorce 

Children of divorce

On the fatherhood

It's difficult to define a father precisely
So, let's imagine how a father would be
A father may be figuratively similar to these:
A starting point, a fulcrum, a roof, a piece of land
A mountain, a sky, a star, a beam of sunshine
A lamp, a mirror, a book, a guide,a set of minds, 
...
I reckon a father can be similar to each of them 
if he is viewed from different perspectives
However,  fatherhood will not be fairly defined 
If  all the pieces above aren't yet combined ?

Perfect Lovers, Father And Mother, Family

honest

handsome
honey
 
happy
hope hail
hale half

heart hand
hankers
house home
honor

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