March 8, 2010
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I walk into the wake,
looking at people gathered
in small clusters,
watching them hug one another
and offer "I'm sorrys"

And I stand
wanting my deceased grandfather
to come back,
to have beaten cancer.
But there's little hope.

Everyone pretends
that it's all okay,
that I never had a chance
to love either of my grandfathers.

Everyone looks at the skin and bone
in the coffin,
but all I see is a cold, dark end.

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