"Visiting Grandpa"


I walk down the street,

A hop in my step.

People stop in their tracks

Watching me with tired eyes.

Inside, I shy away,

it doesn’t stop me.

The flowers blossom

My hair falls down by back.

I stop in front of a patch

Flowers that close when brushed

Pierces with its thorns if its touched.

I pick up a stick under a tree

The flower closes.

The sun shines brighter

It reflects your name

carved in stone.


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741