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Grandmother

by kowilson4

Her lips were the color of the sky

On a dark and murky day

Her eyes no longer filled with light

While on the bed she lay

I ask her to rise

To wake and smell the flowers

To silence our saddened cries

But she's lived her final hours

Her mouth was open in a slight

As if she had one last thing to say

Her skin was snowy white

The color of a place far, far away

 

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o captain my captain

kowilson4

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Comments (1)

kowilson4
<p>Dear Old Oak Tree&nbsp;</p><p>Who dreamed of limbs that spiral</p><p>Who wished for no limit&nbsp;</p><p>But they still cut you down</p><p>But you still try</p><p>You still grow</p><p>Dear Old Oak Tree</p><p>Who stared upon the sky with dull eyes</p><p>Aching for leaves that touch the clouds</p><p>But they still try and shape you&nbsp;</p><p>Yet you still try</p><p>You still grow</p><p>Dear Old Oak Tree</p><p>Who tried and tried</p><p>Whose withered limbs were not quite enough</p><p>Because they kept sawing&nbsp;</p><p>But you still try&nbsp;</p><p>You still grow</p><p>Dear Old Oak Tree</p><p>Who one day, you were set free&nbsp;</p><p>They stared at your reaching limbs with remorse</p><p>Because your spirit was untaintable</p><p>You kept growing</p><p>You kept trying</p><p>Dear Old Oak Tree&nbsp;</p><p>Who never let up</p><p>Dear Old Oak Tree</p><p>Please never change</p>

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