Dear Grandpa

My best friend,

memories are kept with me.

Why’d it have to end?

 

My successes I send,

flying free.

My best friend.

 

The funeral I attend,

will not be full of glee.

Why’d it have to end?

 

From your chair, I descend.

Sitting by the old oak tree,

my best friend.

 

I treasure this blend,

to this chest I have the key.

Why’d it have to end?

 

I leave this bitter end,

I just let it be.

My best friend,

why’d it have to end?

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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