Sundays remind me of you
Your back to the world
As you stood in the kitchen
Eyebrows frowning, shoulders hunched
Focussed on creating
An exquisite curry
In that tiny kitchen
Shared by 3 families
While the world thought
We were swimming in wealth
There you were
Trying your best
Working your hardest
So we could have things
Normal families had
All the things You had longed for
As a child growing up
In a family far too overwhelmed to care
About what would make you happy
So you carved your own path
Built your own boat
And made that journeyy
Of a thousand miles
Yet you never truly got to taste
The legacy you left behind
And in a way I’m glad
You left
Before you saw
How things turned out
Yes I made it
But barely – dad
I wish I could hear your sweet laughter
I wish I could lay down my weary head
On your shoulder and sleep again
The sound sleep of a child
And tell you all my worries
And show you all my wounds
So you could heal it all
With your warm hugs
And kind words
Vincent
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