Denbrock

I stare into a pair of sunken yet experienced eyes,

and crumbled to her knees my mother cries. 

 Through the faint moon of night and the bright sun of day, by his bed is where I stay.  With a face decomposing by the hour, the infesting gangrene will sadly devour.  We have to swab his pale parched  lips,The more his life tragically slips.  He lays still without a reaction, As his health losses its traction.  His voice has since drifted away, His skin is reduced to a slow dying grey.  Out of the blue,Before anyone knew,And with limited things I could possibly do. Violently convulsing and relentlessly shaking, Tears in our eyes for the hearts that are breaking.  Call for help from the nurse in the hall before she could move the life would fall. With the final breath escaping his chest, The man is still and forever at rest.  By the time of 5:35,The body is dormant, and no longer alive. The song of big bad john,Will never again be turned back on.  My mother collapsing in the chair beside,where her father solemnly died.  From loss of words they were never spoken, for the invincible man has finally broken.  From ten feet tall,To a picture on the wall. The stories of my grandpa I love them all.  I entered the room as a child and left as a man,Although it is sad how adulthood began. 

 

This poem is about: 
My family
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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