I'm often reminiscent of times,
When my grandpa used to
Take me out on his bicycle,
We were just roaming around
His tunes always left me spellbound.
But it was so pure
He was one of those people for whom
Money held no allure
He was a man of passion and music,
He was a poet
But I didn't know it
He gave, not just with his words
But also his soul,
Even when he didn't have much control.
I would always ask him for a candy
I remember once he even gave me a sip of brandy
He never said no to me asking for a toy
He often considered me his blue-eyed boy
He would stop all his work and writing
Just to play with me outside,
Whether clear skies or lightning
Now that he's no more
I miss him and the lessons he tried to instil within me
But more than that
I often miss that genuine connection
With someone who understood so much,
But still cared enough to smile and laugh along
The man with a golden touch
With him, I was happy as the day is long.
The world will be a much better place
If we all could learn to live our life
With his grace.

I've met so many people,
Seen so many faces
Yet here I am
Sitting by the tree
All alone,
Often Pondering
What life would have been?
Had I not cut off
People who reminded me of
Simpler and happier times,
Singing together
To the tunes that barely rhymed,
Had I not cut off
The things that always seemed so real,
And some feelings that I tried to conceal.
But here I am
Learning to be happy,
Even if it seems sloppy
Maybe God's watching over me,
As I walk along my path carefree
Maybe I was playing with my sanity,
Just by sleeping in the arms of destiny.
Will I be happy about being selfish?
Or is treading the longer path towards gratitude something I'd relish?