As I was sitting in the room with my dad,
crying for my dad,
watching him,
screaming at the walls,
throwing pictures,
hitting walls,
pulling on the door I was sitting against,
I felt someone sitting with me.
So strong did I feel it
a male figure,
a father's presence,
sitting on the floor with me,
legs outstretched, hands in His lap,
sad with me, sad like I was sad,
feeling what I was,
as if He was watching His dad,
and so much did I feel
that if I reached out I would
touch flesh,
that I spoke to Him,
out loud.
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