Rene

Grandfather

Copyright, Rene

You wouldn’t wake up,
You’d lay there sleeping.
I prayed for your eyes to open again,
And look at me twinkling.

You were my joy,
And my father figure.
But since you left,
I dig deeper and deeper.

I inflict wounds onto me,
And I know others who do too.
I’m left with the bubblegum scars,
Because I’m really missing you.

Now I’m getting worse,
Along with the pain.
I know now life,
Will never be the same.

I thank you,
For all the love you’ve given me.
And making me feel like a person,
But I fear I’m still in need.

I need your soft hug,
And your gentle chuckle.
I need that soft kiss you give to me,
And I need to see that hunky belt buckle.

I’m writing this for you to read,
And to let you really know what I think.
Grandpa this is for you to see,
And let me know what you think.

Copyright, Rene

My life is a written story.
A play if you must call,
To where the beginning has no end,
Until the curtain falls.

When the curtain falls,
The nightmare begins
I lay suffering in silence,
And keeping it bottled in.

The bottled feelings begin to bleed
And begin to take their tole
And I make it pain to see
The scars of what they’ve done to me.

The scars you see now
All neat on my arm
One by one you see them
What these damn feelings have harmed?

I write this now,
As a way to calm the beast inside of me
Writing it to show you
The pain that dwells inside of me