My stepfather was a poet
My stepfather was a poet
It was something we bonded over
We read each other’s work
His words on the page always spoke to me
In the months since he died,
It has been very comforting
To see, read, and touch his words
And I am grateful I have them
Words are powerful
Words are tangible
Words live on,
long after we are gone
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That’s why we do it.