I remember how the sky cried
The mournful day my Nene died.
It sobbed and grieved; thought not prolonged.
Soon sunlight, through the darkness, dawned
As thought the tears had simply dried.
At once I wondered, scornfully, "Why?"
How dare you cease your crying, Sky!
How simply could the world go on?
Then I remembered...
My struggle, isn't her's. It's mine.
I hurt because I'm left behind.
For she, you see, has moved along
A better place she's set-upon.
Therefore, with mourning cast aside,
I'll remember.
A couple of days ago my grandmother on my dad's side passed away, and I wanted to write a poem about it.
