Waiting at the phone, hesitant to answer. 

The truth is if it lights up "Dad" my heart will stop,

My heart will drop, like a pen in silence.

Waiting at the phone, anticipating what I'll hear.

The truth is I expect him to yell at me,

He will speak what he can see, and I to listen.

Waiting at the phone, ready to cry in it.

The truth is I can't let him know I have tears, 

For he won't mentally know the fears, know the shame.

Does he wait at the phone? Is there truth I don't know?

I wonder if he is just as afraid to call.