People don't ask about you
Anymore.
And when they do
It's never at convenient times.
My boyfriend asked me tonight,
Halfway through a Chick-fil-A fry,
"How are you doing with all that?"
What does one say to that?
"I'm okay.
I still cry sometimes.
But most days I'm okay."
My grandpa died
8 months And 4 weeks ago.
This year.
He died this year.
No one asks anymore.
They seem to have forgotten he lived.
And he died.
I miss him though.
I wish more people would ask.
It seems silly to cry about
A man who's been forgotten.
It's hard to cry about
Someone who no one else
Seems to remember.
In my mourning,
I feel at times
As he died:
Alone.
I wish he could call.
04/19/24
YOU ARE READING
[ p o e t r y 2]
詩歌Volume II of my life's poetry work As with my first volume, these poems contain snippets of my life and my strongest emotions. Here I have opened my soul up to be read.
![[ p o e t r y 2]](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/336780532-64-k957395.jpg)