My Grandmother

September 13, 2012
By Anonymous

Every time I argue
with those wrinkled hands,
and that sad calm smile,
I see myself reflected in another
generations eyes.
I wonder what I will be like
when I am reflecting my grandchildren.
and every time I argue
with those wrinkled hands,
and that sad calm smile
inside I am praying that it is not,
for the last time.
I would pull ice out of the fire
I would cover the sun with
tears of snow,
if I could argue,
just one more time,
with those wrinkled hands,
and that sad calm smile


The author's comments:
I love my grandmother. That she will someday not be there, scares me.

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This article has 1 comment.


on Sep. 17 2012 at 11:49 am
sierradelrae16 BRONZE, Starks, Louisiana
2 articles 0 photos 5 comments

Favorite Quote:
"you never know how strong you are, until being strong is all you have left."

I love this poem, it reminds me of everything with my grandmother


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