There is a vacant look in his eyes.
He looks out,
But takes nothing in.
"Grandpa!" I call out.
But he stares at me,
Like I am a stranger.

The fireplace crackles by my feet,
The only warmth filling me.
Getting through to him
Is like bringing someone dead
To life.
It's like trying to revive,
A lost soul.
Impossible.

I hide my disappointment,
Running my fingers along the grooves,
Along the armrests of my chair,
Which punctures my hips like a dagger.

A cake is brought in,
Piled with frosting and sparkles
That glisten in the light.
An explosion of creaminess
Bursts in my mouth.
But it doesn't take quite right.
It almost tastes bitter.

Fireworks dazzle right outside the window,
But I don't admire the hues or designs,
All I think about is the smoke,
Finding is way to suffocate my lungs.
I don't feel like celebrating.

Words fly from across the room;
They are mostly foreign to me,
Only comprehending bits and pieces
At a time.
Maybe this is what my grandpa feels like,
So hopeless, and lost.
I glance at him on more time.

There is a vacant look in his eyes.
He looks out,
But takes nothing in.
"Grandpa!" I call out.
But he stares at me,
Like I am a stranger.