Grandma

From a lifetime of curiosity
Eyes have reverted to blindness
The darkness that has been settling
Around your lenses
Eyes that have now
Fogged with misconceptions

There is the sweet intoxicating
aroma of your home
Of your land
The dirt, the sun, the grass, the birds
There is freedom at your fingertips
Away from that confinement
Of cage thought
From a lifetime of curiosity

Hands that have struggled to hold on
Singed with the sun’s
kisses
Hands that have now
Stiffened with the weight of the
Disease eating away at the sorrow
Deep inside
That was breed by the shadows
That were supposed to stick by your side
And cast the darkness
Settling in the crevices of your heart

This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country

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