When visit him now,
All I see is a stone,
One with a familiar name,
And two dates. A birth and deth.
Death was expected,
But it hit me hard.
My grandfather was a farmer,
Who fed the world,
In exchange for little pay.
I was the grandchild,
Who was not afraid of him.
I would hug him,
Cousins would run.
I find myself missing him,
Though we never talked out loud.
I would gesture to him,
He would gesture back.
Now I talk, in heaven, he listens.
Life is different now.
And it scares me.
Grandpa is gone.
Who's next?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful poem. A nice tribute to a demised grandpa from his grand daughter. Life is different now. And it scares me. Grandpa is gone. Who's next? A genuine fear!