Scrapbook 1.

In 8th grade, I wrote this for my grandmother (I called her Grandmommom).

Grandma,

            I pulled out your old scrapbook.

            Come take a gander, come take a look.

            Look at Grandpa sitting

                        on his polished plane.

 

I know how you long for him,

            when gazing at his face among the men.       

            But you must tread on,

                        all the same.

 

I know you reminisce of all your times,

            the memories running behind lonely eyes.

            I know you miss him

                        with all your heart.

 

And when you leave me,

            Though I know I will cry,

            Do not worry, I will get by

            because I know you two

                        are no longer apart.

Author's Note

I wrote this in 8th grade and have made little revision to it. It won an award (that I can't remember the name of at this current time). I highly doubt I'll make any changes, simply because of the importance this holds to me for various reasons. It's not that it can't be better; it can be. I just don't want to change it. Also, please see the follow up poem, Scrapbook 2!