January,
was too cold that year,
far, far, too cold.
Light snow on the ground
crunched beneath,
my young, aching, feet.
Seven,
that's all I need to say,
far, far, too young.
To deal with pressure
that always comes,
with painful, bitter, loss.
Grandpa,
why did you have to go,
far, far, too soon.
I knew you so well
and im missing you,
with my quiet, breaking, heart.
Memory,
why do you fail me now,
far, far, too quick.
I can hardly remember
your gentle face,
I saw every, waking, day.
Today,
hopefully you are not,
far, far, away.
I hope you see me
grow up in this world,
from sweet, Heaven, above.
January,
was too cold that year,
far, far, too cold.
Light rain started to fall
and I cried out,
Grandpa, I miss you.