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The Father of My Thoughts Did Not Recognize Me

When I was born, there was no one to hold my mind. Only a faded sky and a mother trembling above a forgotten prayer. My thought was born fatherless. And I raised it alone, with hands dirty from paramedics and alphabet. I wrote before I spoke. I spoke before I was heard. And still I search in all the words I never dared to write.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things