I’m sitting solitarily,
Watching at the gate,
Like I am the watchdog,
Thinking I will see you,
Coming back to me,
But I only see strangers passing by,
Fathers walking with their sons,
And I can feel my tear about to fall,

My Papa,
I am holding my cellphone,
In my right hand,
Thinking you could call me,
But it remains silent,
Like a dead animal,
I wonder where you are,
I wonder how you feel,
About abandoning you son,

My papa,
This distance between us,
It drifts my heart apart,
I always ask myself,
A rhetorical question,
When will I see you?
Day by day the distance
Escalates to be a mountain,
My papa when will you come back?