Why is it that I keep writing stories about mothers abandoning daughters? I believe this is the third time.

Memories can be called out of their hiding place.

This poem is about My Father where were you?

My absent Father.

I hate it when something is lost forever.

It is hard to get your head around a loved one being gone forever.

Contemplating the years ahead without a loved one in them is so painful.

Everybody leaves this world one day.

When a loved one is absent, things can seem warped.

Even fools get wise.