The eyes of my father.

I talked to myself,
how I feel so small and lonely
like nobody cares.
Im trying to be me,
but I just dont know who I am
and Im trying to find it.


Walking away,
from this cold and haunting stuff
and I want to be strong
for a story to be told.


Then I look,
upon those miserable and sadness
with the eyes of my father,
Which I miss so badly.


Then I look and I count,
how many mountains that I have climbed,
how many thorns studded into my heart,
how many sacrifies that I have done,
how many smiles that I have thrown.


Now I talk to myself.
How proud and happy I should be
wearing the eyes of my father
So I can seek peace and serenity
wearing the heart of honesty.


Then I hope that I can see,
how love really means love,
how I pray when I miss,
how to define what hard life is,
how to be grateful to be me.


Now I can see,
with the eyes of my father,
Which I miss so badly.