Poetry

My father

They say you were one of a kind, a genius so wise beyond comprehension,

Was I so unfortunate not to meet you?

They say you had a mind so great, envisioning master plans on the creation of generational wealth,

Am I so unlucky to have not experienced it?

In my 25 years of existence, I have lived in the shadow of who and what this name I bear means,

The legacy it is meant to carry.

In these 25 years of distorted images of you, blurred vision I create of our interactions before your departure,

The pain of never knowing you.

25 years since your departure, 25 years of painful joy and growth, 25 years of self discovery,

The anchor needed to be who I am now…

Patrice Bingoto, my father

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