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My Father's Not Mine
My father's flown across the boundaries,
To fight against our nation's enemies,
Don't know if he would be back on time,
Come and ask me that how was I,
He's my father,
But he's not mine.
I tell eveyone he'll be back soon,
But how'd I know if he lost his soul at noon,
Happy I'd be if he reaches home with a smile,
Tear in my eyesif the doorbell rings with our nation's emblem coming from miles,
He's my father,
But he's not mine.
I fear of burning his dead and,
Leaving his burnt remains in the river,
Shower which I take in the morning,
Could be his with blood and not water,
Why do they fight? maiking innocent cry,
I too cry for the same thing,
He's my father,
But he's not mine.
And now I know,
That he's no more,
The man who earned our bread,
Is unknowingly dead,
I don't know how my time would fly,
He's my father,
But he's not mine.
poem
by
Pronit Chatterjee
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