meeting him
In my desperate hours
he's black
and I'm white
Wearing a white suit
He always carries an smile
Holds my hand
calls me : "Son"
i love his tender voice
I can feel he's under a great deal of pressure
But hides the pain
I imagined him
Feeling depressed
Hearing about me
the mistakes
Failures
and sins
I can hear him
as he whispers :
"Son ! Never Ever Jack in
...Never Back Down
Son...
My tiny son..."
He's watching over me
As we live through
Our Parallel existence
Pedram
Feb 8th 2010
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