The Passenger

Once in months maybe years he lit up her life
the rest of the days were full of darkness and shadows
She called him a shooting star
Each time she saw him,

she made just one wish, ( i wish he could stay)
he was a full moon maybe
for sometimes he stayed abit longer than other days.
She missed him
But also wanted to see the sunshine in her mothers eyes
all she ever said to kindergatern friends when they talked about dads was,
“my dad is a passenger.”


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