Left no stone unturned, fighting to be the father I am, <br />Though frankly, it feels more like ‘no turn unstoned’. <br />Pray God, may the years be kind. <br /> <br />Never stopped hoping – though the hoping hurts: <br />Weighs dull and heavy along the shoulders of the soul <br />Yet sharp as a blade, slicing belief from man into meat. <br />Pray God, may the years be kind. <br /> <br />My voice returns void: an unheard echo <br />Off the distant, implacable walls of regulation and mediation, <br />Those walls without ears, <br />Without hearts to hear. <br />Pray God, may the years be kind. <br /> <br />In what warped world can’t dads see daughters? <br />In this one, it seems; <br />In this one, where justice hides its face <br />And jaundice usurps its place. <br /> <br />Please God, may the years be kind … <br />…for the Law is uncaring and blind.<br /><br />Tony Jolley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hope-hurts/
