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