The old man
laughed at everything,
even when it
was never
funny,
and his hair hadn't
been combed for weeks
or more.
With a bald head on top,
he looked like some
exotic, near-extinct
bird.
He kept poking
holes in his styrofoam
paper plate with
his fork-fixing
something probably.
He doesn't know
I'm his granddaughter.
Sep 3, 2012
Sep 3, 2012 at 1:22 AM UTC
The old man
laughed at everything,
even when it
was never
funny,
and his hair hadn't
been combed for weeks
or more.
With a bald head on top,
he looked like some
exotic, near-extinct
bird.
He kept poking
holes in his styrofoam
paper plate with
his fork-fixing
something probably.
He doesn't know
I'm his granddaughter.
Request permission to use this poem