In honour of my lovely grandma, I dearly miss you.
On those days when I childishly complained,
you taught me of ways with no taint.
You tried to coax me to love
and to be a brave, righteous trove.
On those days of empty tiredness,
your gentle presence let me destress.
After all, your eyes used to hold a million happy stars for me,
making me recall you, all lovely.
On those days when you were not so well,
and the uncertain time ticking made me dwell,
I wondered if those farewells made you sad,
since all you wanted was to be back all glad.
On those days, when laughter was scarce
and your absence left tokens of dread in tears,
all I wished for was to see you again,
to let me forget the pain.
On these days when you seem like a distant memory,
my mind stumbles a bit unsteady
and I, in the midst of this world gone gore,
try to be a brave, righteous trove.
YOU ARE READING
When A Bud Blooms | Poetry
Poetry[COMPLETED] "As I see visions of me escaping this wretched reality, the hidden path behind me that I travelled a moment ago disappears, and the bridge readies itself to once more daunt. Through moments of such hesitation and doubt, oh pray, let me f...
