This letter.


I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,
I was so, so scared.
Scared of the fact that after I’ll go,
You’ll fall away like a loose thread.

I am sorry, for I won’t be there
To wake you up for school on time.
Or to prepare your lunch,
And drop you off at exact half past nine.

I won’t be able to ruffle your hair
And urge you to go on dates.
Tell you to be home by eight,
You’ll be grounded if you’ll be late.

You have no idea how much I want to
Be your rock during a fall out,
To hug you everyday and
Tell you that you’ve made so proud.

Only I know how much it hurts to think
That at times you’ll feel betrayed.
As if I stranded you intentionally.
But how I wish my fate I could change.

I want to go on…

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