Sundays
Sundays daughter stories
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belledmonds
belledmondsCommunity member
Autoplay OFF  •  4 months ago
A poem for my dad, 2 years after he left.

Sundays

You were there every day,

Every Sunday we had.

My earth, my sky,

My everything, my dad.

Now I’m lucky to see you,

Two days a week I get.

I long for those Sundays

That I will never forget.

Because now they are different,

With you not here with me,

And my Sundays are empty;

Filled with a sad solitary.

But I suppose you’re okay,

With your new Sundays,

Spent with familiar strangers,

But still in the same way.

And while you move forward,

I’m stuck in the past.

Reliving our Sundays

As time moves too fast.

And now it’s been two years

Since that last Sunday I had,

With my earth, my sky,

My everything, my dad.

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