“Why can't i be good enough for you dad”

Why can’t I be good enough for you, dad?  
I chase your shadow across the kitchen floor,  
Yearning for a nod, a half-smile—something more.  
You measure my days with a yardstick of dreams  
Too big for my pocket, or so it sometimes seems.  

I’m always ten seconds slow and a footstep behind  
In the echoing halls of your diligent mind.  
You built with your hands what now towers above—  
How can I climb up when I’m small with my love?  

Your boots are so heavy, your plans fiercely bright;  
I trace every blueprint, I labor at night.  
But sometimes my lines grow wavy, my words fall apart;  
My heart folds into paper, a wish torn apart.  

Still, I offer my laughter like change for a bill,  
Hope you’ll collect it, say, "Son, now sit still."  
If I fumble my answers or falter and trip,  
Can you hear, through my silence, I need your firm grip?  

If I’m not the bolt or the beam that you dreamed,  
Let me be strong but soft at the seams.  
Just once, dad, let your gaze linger and stay:  
See the good in the child who’s learning your way.  

Maybe someday I'll stand where you hoped I could,  
And you'll tell me, at last, "You’re more than good."  
But until that day dawns and your weathered hands find  
The love in my trying, the will in my mind—  
I'll keep searching the sunlight that falls on your shoe,  
Longing for one simple "I’m proud of you."

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