We've gone love-starved
With Whispered prayers
The stone uncarved
The ground still bare
Of fairness, we argue.
For memories stolen
Every laugh we value
And each smile golden
A legacy of love
Is the gift left behind
While you fly high above
In heaven, you reside
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This is a short poem I wrote after losing my grandmother. I wasn't able to attend her funeral since I was so far away from University, so I had to visit her grave a month later alone. Since it was winter, the grass still had not grown back over the spot they buried her, and they had not gotten around to carving the back of the stone since the front was where my grandfather was buried. It had been 18 years since I stood on that same ground when we buried him, yet I still felt like they were right there with me.
I wrote about the legacy of my grandmother because she left behind 11 children, 52 grandchildren, and 23 (increasing) great-grandchildren. In the last few years, dementia took her memories, but it only made us appreciate the time we had with her before she left. The words I write can never do the most amazing woman I have ever known justice, but sometimes it's all I can do.
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Secrets From a Liar
PoetryWelcome to my emotionally unstable life told through poetry! Some of this is considered spoken word, and others are more traditional :)
