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Apr 2018
Her musky, aged, antique smell.
Every wrinkle on her face had a tale to tell.
Cracks on her palms, treasured stories of hardships & struggles.
Walked with a limp, like a boulder on her shoulder back.
Didn't fall even with the deepest toe crack.
I lay my head on her motherly warm lap.
Her silvery smooth flowing hair,
gleamed with pride for her only heir.
She caressed my hair, sent chills down my spine.
Don't you worry grandma, down here everything is (not so) fine.
Wish you were here for me when I need you the most.
I will be there in the stars, will meet you once I'm mighty close.

I miss you, grandma.
Written by
Shubham Kamble
  412
     Patricia Cikus and Rick
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