I remember watching Grandad
Whenever it would rain
He would walk around the house a lot
You could tell he was in pain

See, Grandad fought in World War One
Though he never said a word
He was hearing things inside his head
Things no one ever heard

He hated rain, it made the mud
And that's where it began
Fighting, deep within the trenches
Keeping dry as best you can

Everything was always wet
You fought the ***, and fought the sky
The battle in the trenches seemed
To find ways to keep dry

Fifty yards away, no more
The enemy was waiting
Would today be when we made a move
Both sides always waiting

There were no birds up in the sky
Just clouds and all that rain
That war was stuck in Grandads head
And it was driving him insane

My dad would watch as Grandad walked
To hide from that **** sound
You know that all he thought of then
Was that trench, and muddy ground

You'd wrap yourself in what you could
You'd use  uniforms of the dead
Taken from your cohorts
Soaked in mud, and stained blood red

Boots, soaked through like paper
Feet wrapped up as best you could
The mud was everlasting
It covered everything but good

Dad, said it was painful
To watch Grandad on those days
He would hide so deep within himself
In a deep, dark, mental maze

The sun, it never dried the earth
The water just sat in little pools
With the sunlight bouncing off of it
Leaving drops shining like jewels

The smell, of rotting corpses
Piled high down at the end
Bodies of the fallen
The bodies of your friends

Dad said it was different
When he went off to fight
It wasn't like his father's war
It was just like day and night

I remember when my Grandad passed
It rained the whole day through
I remember as they lowered him
Now, I know what Grandad knew

The mud, the worms, the water
Filled his little six foot trench
And everyone was soaked on through
In my mind, I smelled the stench

I feel sorry for my Grandad
Because in truth, I like the rain
And I feel so sorry for him
That it caused him so much pain

The horror of the battle
And the act of keeping dry
You might defeat the enemy
But, not both...but, you'd try

I remember watching Grandad
And of how he hated rain
But, my Grandad was my hero
And, now I know...he's out of pain

Be who you want to attract,
Before you start "searching" for the right person,
Be the right person,
Find yourself,
Be comfortable with who you are,
Find happiness within you,
If someone is the only basis of your joy,
I'm afraid,your joy might be a mirage.

01:52 am
have you ever asked yourself like why you so lonely?*

01:53 am
or empty?

that maybe you give too much of your essence to people and never leave any of you for yourself

01:55 am
i know i do

02:05 am
and like that's maybe why i get so attached to humans

because in them,
i find myself

02:07 am
i need to change, because things shouldn't be this way

02:10 am
but it's hard sometimes you know, when most days you don't leave the house because you feel unworthy of the space you take up

02:16 am
so you'd much rather disintegrate into soil because you've become all too familiar with people stepping over you and admiring the outcome of your beauty but never the roots of your pain

02:19 am
i spend so much effort watering people in order for them to grow and hardly get enough sun shine to feed my own soul

02:25 am*
because i don't know how to do anything else but care for everyone but myself

my tears aren’t forced
they flow in that
dark tunnel that she
dreamed so long ago
she wasn’t ready
to take her first steps
I wasn’t ready to
take mine without her.
Little things bring her back
like empty bowls or the tower
of books she’s never going to read.
People have been calling this a
trauma, but they’ve forgotten the
loneliness of life’s journey. She dreamed
a tunnel and added bright lights
and dusted the floor with powdery snow
she traveled far yet I can
only see the trails of
milk puddling around the lost key that she
dropped under blankets
of memory and phrases of
I-promise and tomorrow. I’m growing up as
she falls down. She wasn’t
perfect but that’s why it
was so easy to love her.
My journey’s ongoing, and the
deep undercurrents of pain and
grief are pulling me through
that tunnel.
I’m rowing softly by,
quietly, quietly,
as she is laid to rest.
her memories swallow the emptiness
she is kneeling at the throne.
I follow slowly and leave my
tears for her to know that life’s
path isn’t paved in water but
with sorrow, with endings, and with lost
boats on turbid seas.

She spat, she swore she fumed on me,
This little old lady of seventy three,
She called me bad and ugly as sin,
She said all this with a comfortable grin,
Her contempt for me was clear as day,
I asked her why she felt this way,
She tore my top and scratched my cheek,
Pulled my hair and cried “you freak”,
I took all this with no attitude,
Her language so vile and manner so rude,
I could do nothing but offer love,
That was rebuked with a cold shove,
Her eyes they burned into my face,
As I enveloped her with a warm embrace,
She yelled she kicked and punched my chest,
I tried to calm her, I did my best,
I had to call for the nurse at the end,
But a broken heart she could not mend,
She helped my mam back into bed,
And gave her pills to sooth her head,
After a while I recognised again,
The mother I love, in no more pain,
My father arrived with the moon,
They danced together across the room,
They didn’t notice me in the chair,
But to tell you the truth I didn’t care,
I was at ease with their meeting again,
I sighed and whispered no more pain,
Alzheimer’s is a wicked disease,
It’s brought our family to its knees,
We watched our mam slipping away,
Forgetting her life’s worth every day,
It’s only the love that keeps you strong,
And the memories of where we belong,
Heartbroken now but I feel at rest,
Coz I love you mam you are the best.

Christina Ford