Home was a person with two sets of brown eyes
and a wrinkled face. She was
My heart, my rock, my caretaker, my everything…
Fuck you, Death! You took my home away!
She was my mother, my father, my grandmother, and grandfather.
She filled the role of three extra people
Who were either too sick to help themselves or too cowardly to care.
Without her..I have no home.
My grandmother, is my Home. And
No place, no person, will ever replace her.
Beautiful, I too am at home in a person, not a place
Oh thank you! can i ask, out of all of the poems i’ve posted, which ones you think I should submit for the anthology?
I think this one is sweet that you have off Grammy. Did you read it to her?
Yea, it is about Grammy and no I didn’t read it to her..you think I should?