He would be Grandma's favorite,
a singer with muscled to carry the load.
She would tell me I'm so skinny,
my hair so long, it'll stun her.
However, his hair steals the show,
her favorite, a rare natural orange,
the color of the desired tabby cat which she dreamed of
Granted, he isn't a cat but maybe
she sent him.
Afterall, he was only upstream from her.
He even took me to the tower to
watch the sky.
A place she will always live at.
He even cares after her home
when he is able.
She would make all this food for him
and he couldn't say no.
His picture would be right
next to mine in her collection.
She would always ask where he is.
YOU ARE READING
Mumblings of someone who is trying to start their own life
PoetryA passive journey, if you will. A childhood room with limited space. It is still decorated with all of her things. Nothing changes. She returned to what it was. A shut door with little to no sunlight. Mostly no sunlight. She lives on the weekends wi...
