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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required My father can't stay on the phone for long That's why I don't want to call home This is a strange stubborn father, never use a cell phone I get a headache just by insisting, I do but can't change his opinion regarding that. I like to hear my father's voice so much! Thick, full voice, my father, Age has made that voice more mature, heavier. As a memory of my father, that voice is true to me Living so far from the country, when life is frustrating and unable to bear the responsibility of failures, sometimes I really want to run away to my father in those memorable old days. Just as the whiteness of a “Kafan” awakens a strange pain inside you, only you Everything on earth seems meaningless, Suffocated time only reminds you then time to call your father may have passed yesterday! There is busyness in the days abroad, days Where there is a calendar of work-tired hours Everyone is rushing to that work Some are expressive, some are suppressed by the irony of destiny. Father was coughing a little while talking yesterday "Are you doing fine, father ?" I asked. "It’s okay my girl, what else at this age! No more excuses !" That's the end of the sentence. In his own infallible rules. Engrossed are in many memories of father My head, my brain, and even my heart, deer me! memories of millions, of thousands of people like my father Tell me how it will be to write a book about that! Maybe not bad! Note : Kafan : (noun) burial garment April 21, 2021
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