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The Lady Grace smiles down at me.
It's loving smile like no other
Brighter than stars and sun's
Beaming rays upon a child's face
As I smile back.
The smile of the lady grace lights my world.
Lady Grace lights her cigarette.

The Lady Grace smiles at me.
It's a loving smile like no other
Brighter than stars and sun's
Beaming upon her proud grandsons face
As I beam back.
I'm making strides in the world.
And she strides with me.
At her own pace.
The beam of the lady grace lights my world.
Lady Grace lights her cigarette.

The Lady Grace opened her eyes
She dragged herself off her side and propped herself up with her arm
She gasped for air.
She trained her eyes on me
Desperate and loving
Wishing to speak.
I look back.
Glazed to her pain.
She searches through.
I'm here for her.
Lady Grace lights her cigarette.

My eyes squint on the doorframe.
I drag myself to consciousness from dreams.
'your grandma is dead'.

Lady Grace left me today.
Her love and guidance vanished in the wind.
I light a cigarette.
And cry.
Jenifer S May 24
The all-encompassing blanket of white engulfs the hearts barely beating
Time and space linger from moving forward, delaying
Silence stretches for miles within the compressed block
Disrupted by the continues steady beats of the clock
Counting down each second before the arrival of death
Some wishing sooner to take their last breath
While others attempt to stall it with will and wealth

All of man's riches, achievements and glory reduced to a fading memory
Only a few-feet bed to call their own, their last treasury
Awaits to be passed down from the dead to the dying
As the armed man walks freely in this room, brushing past those lying
Through the occasional wheezes of the dumb, his voice is heard
Communicating the message of forewarning through  the unsaid word
He has much not to be said as he waits in the midst of the dying herd

There's no beauty in the dying days
Only an ugly mess painted clearly on their face
The stench of corps not yet dead
Waiting and awaiting with dread
Dripping down the corners of their mouth, their untold stories
Reminiscing sorrowfully upon their past glories
And filling their final thoughts with regrets of unsolved quarries

I walk for miles and miles unable to exit this tiny room
Struggling to escape the impending doom
Death's silent whispers still echoing in my ears
The stabs of reality bringing to my eyes, tears
Even though my time here remains with uncertain deals
I feel that death has stolen a part of me that most appeals
Sneaking away seconds of life from time to time as he feels
Eva May 24
We'd be perched on the evening sofa,
our eyes-
fixed on grandma.
She'd tell us many stories
of what her childhood used to be.
Reminding us to savor the little time we had left.
Like idiots,
we'd snicker and push the silly remark away.
Impatiently waiting to grow up.
I wish we understood,
how right she was.
Juhlhaus Apr 28
As stately as a Redwood and as strong as the gray cliffs of the Sierras, as warm as the sun on the kelp-strewn sand. I remember her musical voice and I hear the murmur of the waves and the whisper of the wind in the Eucalyptus trees. I see the limitless ocean and sky, remembering her beautiful blue-green eyes.
I will love you always, Grandma.
Her fingers dance across the keys,
Creating perfect melodies.
Next to her, I sit young and eager
To please my loving and patient teacher.
She coaches me on how to place my hand.
How lucky am I to call her Grandmommy Anne!
Kenshō Apr 5
sugar cane berry stains

lost friends life's bends

mountain still, in the end

there and back i've seen

we were kids, you were teens

we learned a lot where we've been

one more shot before we go

that sacred breath you always know-

when to call it a day
Peter Farsje Mar 31
After the funeral
back at the house,
adults gathered talking
in hushed platitudes.

While wandering the house
I looked out the window.
There she was, on the front lawn
by the blue hydrangea.

Rising from the ground
like an apparition...


She is the last person
I know
who went to heaven.

(little Peter, age 6)
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