Saturday, March 23, 2013

My dad


My dad once told me that until he was 60 years old he used to write poetry when he was in love. Then he started writing poetry because no woman he could love would fall in love with him anymore. Then he stopped writing poetry because nobody would buy his books, nobody was interested anymore in what he had to say or in his poetic language. When I die, he said, nobody will miss me. The same happens with almost all of us. Isn’t that a sad story? I didn’t answer him.

J. E. Soice

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