I remember the kid Who stopped asking questions Because answers hurt more You learned early how to read a face Measure silence, adjust your pace Hope felt dangerous back then So you folded it up and hid it away You stood still when the room went cold Learned being good didn’t mean being held You watched pride skip right past you Like it was meant for someone else They didn’t break you with anger They broke you with absence That’s harder to name There were no claps in this house So you learned not to shine You kept your head down And swallowed the signs But I see you now I know what you did You stayed alive I’m holding your hand Come stand with me, kid You tried to earn love by being easy By never needing, never bleeding You carried adults on your back While they called you too sensitive You learned how to disappear And still get everything done Be the calm one, the strong one Never need anyone There were no claps in this house Just rules and restraint So you thought being loved Meant tolerating pain But you weren’t weak You were a child Doing the best you could In a room that forgot how to smile You don’t have to be brave anymore You don’t have to prove a thing I’m not here to fix you I’m here to stay You don’t walk alone now I won’t let go There were no claps in this house So we learned a new sound Every step that we take I hear it now You didn’t fail You didn’t fall You just kept going When no one called I’m proud of you I always was You don’t have to earn it I’ve got you, son You can rest I’m here
