I remembered yesterday,
I saw my granddad, shaking an old friend’s hand,
They had so much more than just reminisce of memories,
You could have seen how much they’ve missed.
The soft hugs, teary eyes and smiling silence.
They had truly missed.
I saw, how tradition had reckon their past
And view, how beautiful a little moment can heal all scars.
I felt the sour scorn of how much hate, they allowed.
And grew anger, way more than much to endure.
They sat, and talked as any old couple would,
As if they we’re allowed, but time grew old,
It never flew, it grew and so much more too.
But as tradition had instilled, they’re lives we’re no longer theirs.
They had all grown so old, and thankful,
Thankful for that little moment of an hour.
And they hugged, that’s all they could have done.
I turned, disappointed in what no longer be.
But with my youthful mind, I turned back.
I saw their love.
A love that fooled a tradition, because it never died.
It was always there, hidden and protected