I’m left guessing at the person behind the poem.

I’m wondering why I crumbled into a heap writing that last year.

An angst? An ache?

Anyway, was waiting at the bus stop with Roscoe today, and I said, what should I give my dad?

Roscoe said, “Draw a yellow bobo. When your parents came last year I saw two bobos, merged into one bobo. That’s you! Yellow smiley. And you can tell your father you love him because he is your father.”

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photo (3)photo

I suppose in many ways I haven’t grown up.

P/s: drawn in 10 minutes on my fav iPad Art Set app!

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