Remembering Grandpa

As my words come slowly now,

I must struggle to speak somehow.

Age and advanced years are here,

I barely recognize those who are near.

Their tears keep falling, not sure why,

tell me a joke, don’t make me cry!

The stroke took much, but I sustain;

for humor, food and love remain.

Be happy when you visit me,

I lived not in sorrow, but joyfully!

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2 comments

  1. Anton Wills-Eve · January 19, 2015

    your poem on grandpa reverberated with real feeling. Well written

    Like

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