Poetry > Reviews (821)

Grandad

I often dream of days gone by
I was carefree then, no older than five
We sometimes stood by the raging sea
I'd stand there with you beside me

And as we stand we are not speaking
And once again, your heart is beating
For in my dreams you never end
Still hold my hand, my closest friend

While I know that you're not real
In the day, I can still feel
That you are there by my side
You are my watcher, you're my guide

I sometimes wonder if you were here
In my heart there's my darkest fear
That you'd not be proud of me
I've done my best, please try to see

I have a life now of my own
A lovely man, a lovely home
And one day I'll be so glad
When I can tell my kids about their great granddad!
My grandfather was the single most important thing in my early life, and I was distraught when he died a little while before my 6th birthday. It took me a long while to get over the loss of him, and although I'm not a spiritual or religious person, I still to this day feel a very close bond to him, and think of him often as though he was still here, maybe my way of coping. I jotted down this little poem a while ago as I was wondering how things would be if he was still here. It was very hard for me to put my words into writing, so bear with me if it doesn't seem to make too much sense I just hope the meaning of this poem is convyed properly.