On Death Of A Father

By Goirick Brahmachari

Image Credit: Fridooh

I could have called you my father
for you were one.

Every bit of you that made every bits of the girl I had once fallen in love with.
You taught her about the winds
And gave her, her eyes,
Her earthen skin

But I could not.
For there was no reason to.

You held my hands and we walked by my streets once
We sat together and had tea
You even asked me to smoke less.

But I could not.
For there was no reason to.

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