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had to give a speech at a funeral, tried to leave them laughing, happy to be sad. but i done it. whipped those rivulets back up and into those emptying tear ducts. bring on the next act, be prepared, scouts, to exercise your laughs lines. you see, when the deceased and me, walked twenty paces behind you, close enough that y'all could not hear, we cackled and cracked jokes, in joyous wonderment of our own foibles, drunk silly on our silliness. the jokes went from bad to worse, the worse it got, the harder we laughed. so i ask you this? did you're hear the one about the grandpa who asked his grandchild, could he possibly source a little yellow pill, in return for twenty bucks under his pillow? Sure, said the grandchild, he knew where his dad kept, hid his stash, free cash. Next morning, the child found $120 bucks underneath his pillow. asked his grandpa, what's the story, gramps? the  twenty was from me, as agreed. the hundred dollar bill, well, that was from Grandma. a true story, maybe. so long grandpa, thanks for the good advice, always leave 'em laughing! then he broke down, weeping inconsolable.
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Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 10:41 AM UTC
So long Grandpa (a hard job)
had to give a speech at a funeral, tried to leave them laughing, happy to be sad. but i done it. whipped those rivulets back up and into those emptying tear ducts. bring on the next act, be prepared, scouts, to exercise your laughs lines. you see, when the deceased and me, walked twenty paces behind you, close enough that y'all could not hear, we cackled and cracked jokes, in joyous wonderment of our own foibles, drunk silly on our silliness. the jokes went from bad to worse, the worse it got, the harder we laughed. so i ask you this? did you're hear the one about the grandpa who asked his grandchild, could he possibly source a little yellow pill, in return for twenty bucks under his pillow? Sure, said the grandchild, he knew where his dad kept, hid his stash, free cash. Next morning, the child found $120 bucks underneath his pillow. asked his grandpa, what's the story, gramps? the  twenty was from me, as agreed. the hundred dollar bill, well, that was from Grandma. a true story, maybe. so long grandpa, thanks for the good advice, always leave 'em laughing! then he broke down, weeping inconsolable.
11/23/13 David! I am the grandpa in this poem, which I prepared for my grandson who is now but a baby. So when that day rolls around, he won't have to struggle to find the right words.
nat-lipstadt
Written by
99/M/NYC/Lippstadt/Kraków
Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 10:41 AM UTC
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