He was always silent.
A serious man.
I don’t know what was inside his mind.
He was not like any other father in the world I know.
He was mysterious.
He shared just a little detail about his past life.
Some are lies and some are near to what is true.
Yesterday, we were opposite.
Now, I am becoming like him.
–Becoming, 2018
-
Author:
Quaint (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 27th, 2020 01:54
- Comment from author about the poem: My father passed away. His role as a father was passed to me.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 32
Offline)
Comments1
I too have become my Dad. Good words Jerricho.
Andy
I know now how you felt it at first. Death is indeed a certainty in life.
Thank you for the appreciation.
Jerricho
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