All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
In his living room in the middle of the house
Where the T.V. sounds, and the lamp glows on his face,
My grandfather is sound asleep.
I pause in the kitchen, hearing
From outside the room the pace of his breathing
Like soft drums in rhythm.
Old as he is, the experiences
Of his life are a treasure chest, filled with gold.
I hope one day I find the key.
But now his breathing softens, as if to tell me
Not to worry. Peacefulness greatens,
In which everything seems to be okay.
I remember his wooden cane
Which he used in that very room;
How it tapped the floor
With every step he took.
And how for years, in pain and struggle,
He limped around like a wounded animal.
Trying to get better he fought everyday,
To play with his grandkids once more.
Oh how they missed him.
I can almost hear him say in the rhythm of his breath,
“Face your fears, grandson, and you can do anything.”
Today, he gave me the key.