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Poetry
Suddenly,
Im back to when I was five
​
Crying at the sight of a suitcase
as dad departs for his work trip,
knowing he will be gone
for a day, or maybe two
​
Except this time,
I am not a little kid anymore,
and he won't be coming home
​
Because my home,
is no longer his
​
And thats when the tears comes
because I realize
our roofs
will never again be shared.
permanent business trip
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