Two years have gone since I last saw your face.
Tears stream down as I think of the bygone days.
When I was but a child, you respected me as an adult.
And spoke to me at length of many a fear and guilt.
I loved to stay around you; your stories never bored me.
They never failed to move, thrill and inspire me.
How I had hoped your dementia would go away-soon.
And that you would talk sense to me someday –soon.
‘When I die, I need none of you by my side’- you often said.
You died with no one by your side just as you said you would.
I am glad you died alone,infact your most preferred way
But I tell my self 'he should've stayed on'- on many a day.
Especially today, your eighty seventh birthday.
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