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Authors Note: Based on recent events in my life. Trying to find a way to let it out and a poem didn’t seem the right way so I tried my hand at writing after a long while. Thank you!
It wasn’t that serious, well it was, but it could have been worse. They could have stolen our passports and citizenship cards and they didn’t, bless them, but still. The briefcase had a negative of a picture that was taken of me as a child, the pictures that makes my dad smile. But at least now he can really see me, now at least he can smile when he sees the real me and not some silly baby picture of me drooling. It’s still scary. I can’t sleep at night and I cry because my father is getting not a moments rest and that to in his vacation!
I hear the phone ring. “Hello?” I hear my mothers voice say jadedly, or is it depressed? “He’s sleeping, may I know who’s calling? – Yes I tell him you called. Thank you, good night.” Such an easy excuse these days. My dad is sleeping, well trying to. I doubt he’s had a good sleep in a while. “Who was it?” “Insurance. Just go to sleep.” The light goes off in their room. I can tell, from the crack in underneath their door. I hate it when that happens, because it feels as if the last light has gone out. The last light left. I don’t like feeling like this and take my mothers advice and just try to sleep. It’s only a picture anyways right? It’ll all pass over in a month. It’ll all pass over. It was just a picture. Not even, a negative.