November 13, 2008
By Cal Mundell, El Paso, TX

My dearest grandmother is getting old,
When I say old I mean old like an antique,
Old like a picture,
Old like an oak tree,

It frightens me to think that one day she will be gone,
She will be gone and out of my reach,
There will be nothing that I can do,
I will never be able to get her back,

My grandma is exactly like a chocolate bar,
It’s very sweet, but once you eat it, it’s gone forever,
I want to save my candy bar,
But I fear if I save her to much she will expire,

All we do is laugh and play,
Each and every day,
She tells me a joke,
Then gives me a little poke,

And tells me to run along and laugh and play,
But I can’t because of the thought that this may be her last day,
I know she will leave eventually,
And go up to a better place,

Which makes me wonder,
Why do we all have to go,
Then I think to myself,
We are all like chocolate bars,

Once we have served our purpose,
We are no longer of use to our creator,
It’s like saving a wrapper,
We just throw it away,

It is clearer now to me,
As to why my grandma will leave me,
I can imagine her spying on me from heaven,
And it makes me think what it’s like and when it will be my turn.

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