Wednesday, February 25, 2009


Rating: 5.0
As a child I was innocent,
there were things I didn't understand.
I would run to sit on the porch,
and grab hold to the arms of this old man.

His arms were flabby and soft,
U could see the veins in his arms like waves.
As a young boy, I was eager to talk,
From this old man, it was wisdom he gave.

He would sit there and reminense,
talking about life issues, that I couldn't relate,
He would speak on the topic of the country,
I never knew that he was setting the bait.

He was giving me something worth more than money,
I wish I knew then like I know now.
He had my attention like bees to sweet honey,
The words that he spoke, my mind had allowed.

His words to go through to the database of my memory,
My mind savored it, and locked it with a key.
As the old man kept on speaking,
Occasionally he would spit his tobacco, and I say Eeeh-

He would smile, with that smirk grin on his face,
but he didn't stop, his wisdom he kept on giving.
Every now and then I say grand daddy I don't understand,
he would pause by saying keep-a-living.

There were things that we discussed,
for it was personal, only between he and I.
I remembered, when I said 'Let's go to the hospital, ya'll',
On that very night he died.

There was so much going on that night,
For my grand daddy he was a good man.
All of his sibblings was there on that night,
By his bed side I held his hand.

His hands were still warm,
and a tear rolled from my eyes.
I was there when he took his last breath,
I still hear the grown women cry!

You see my grandad was a rich and blessed man,
and he got there by not saying much and giving.
You couldn't tell it even by his clothes,
But you knew it when he said 'Keep-a-living'.

As time move forward,
and the seasons have moved on.
I look at myself now and realized,
That I am now grown.

And just like a seed that one would plant,
in a garden field that grows.
I am also the product of a seed,
from that plant of my grand daddy's rose.

Through him I see a field of flowers,
on days like this it is grand.
I must admit I wish he was alive,
So I can say, 'Grand daddy you the man! '

I've been through so much,
and life's lessons is the cost of living.
I've been blessed by GOD with wisdom,
and to those that don't understand, 'Keep-a-living'

http: // <- Check out my site!
Corey Campbell
Brown Sugga 26 February 2009
Hey Black Child, I still like this poem! I still write from time to time!
0 0 Reply

Delivering Poems Around The World

Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...

1/18/2021 7:33:21 AM #