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