i'm not a fatherless child, yet i long for the caring figure once i had. he once was just a phone-call away when he's flying out there somewhere, carrying love all around the globe. flying high, until it was out of my reach. when i was a little, i didn't know what's lost meant like. it was just a day when he's here, and now every once in a while, i'd visited him on his new house. under the tree where the sunshine peeked through its leaves, his name's engraved and it's becoming an ache sometimes. some of my friends' dads would hold their hands when they walked 'em to the altar, and all i could think about was wishing that you might be here, meeting the person that you'd envy about when i couldn't take my eyes off of him.
i'm not a fatherless child, because when you went away, i still felt the love you gave when i grew up. i still can get the presence of you in this house, like the frames up on the wall, the couch you loved to spend on with football on TV (by the way, we're sorry to announce that we changed the TV), in anywhere but here. those photos might be the last thing we have to remind us about you, but honestly, i already forget how's your voice. the tone that now i couldn't figure out how it sounds. it's been a decade, and it's sad that slowly your figure becomes a blurry recollection in my mind.
i'm not, once again, a fatherless child. in this society where they're longing for a father figure because the lack of their presences, i'm longing for someone that's already out of my reach. the father that's been long gone by now. but we'll meet again on the clouds where heaven's singing to welcome us, someday. 'til then, i'll hug your warmth left on this house.
// lost child.
03.06.25; 11.47pm
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