Grandpa

Faith, inscribed
not just on his wrist,
but in his heart
for his family.


Faith, normally religious
joined with what could be a pirate,
but what was definitely Jesus,
although he was an unreligious man.


Serving his own purpose,
a disciple to his own rebellion,
but with no true guidance
from a “higher power.”
Only homilies to be learned in the aftermath

 

Good at whatever he chose to be
burdened, maybe blessed, with troubles
At least he never stole.

 

Faith was what we held on to,
as we knew he was headed above.


Faith that he would still be
in our memories.

 

 

This poem is about: 
My family

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