Hey, that's my Gran!
She's not ******* demented.
She lived on her own
in a house that she rented.
This is how it used to be
when I'd knock on her door
and shout "Hey Gran, it's me!"
Through her curtain,
a bi-focaled rim.
She threatened the Police,
"I don't recognize him"
Although I knew her,
she didn't know me
and from that day on,
this is how it would be.
Poetry by Kaydee
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 6:31 PM UTC
Hey, that's my Gran!
She's not ******* demented.
She lived on her own
in a house that she rented.
This is how it used to be
when I'd knock on her door
and shout "Hey Gran, it's me!"
Through her curtain,
a bi-focaled rim.
She threatened the Police,
"I don't recognize him"
Although I knew her,
she didn't know me
and from that day on,
this is how it would be.
Poetry by Kaydee
In memory of my Grandma, Mary.
She never knew me as a 'she'
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