Grandparents Poems | Examples of Grandparents Poetry

I am from sitting in the front row church pew I never wanted to be in twice. The genuine smiles in the photos on the memory board were oh-so-different from The ones we plastered on at the American Legion and the Irish pub There we gulped bottomless Shirley Temples and spent twenty dollars on darts. All to distract ourselves...

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He planned on moving out This place that held the living dead These halls that magnified the screams His wristband said otherwise Trapped here for life Though it would be a temporary stay In a way You could tell from the state of his mind And the stare of his eyes That he didn't have to wait too much longer To leave these haunted halls He...

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We make our own choices In life and no one's perfect But when you decide to have kids It's your responsibility not The grandparents, the children now Have excessive energy, don't listen Throws tantrums, and have no Discipline at all, because they're Not taught, if you the parent Can't control them what expect From the grandparents, then you want them to babysit Monday through Friday, plus weekends...

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A Senior Citizen any day Blessed to wake up hooray Through the aches and pain Sometimes the need to complain Memory sometimes in forget Enjoyment of retirement blitz Carefree sensation Surrounded by family and Grandchildren Forget the Nursing Home Always a need to walk and talk Enriched spirit Wanting to enjoy and live Breath of Life Embracing refreshing flowers Sometimes for hours Oasis of their own Rocking Chair moments Reflecting on...

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Beautiful lady She had her daddy's eyes She had her Mom's smile. She had her grandpa's strength She had her Grandma's style. What a beautiful lady she would have turned out to be. Oh wait a minute, she did, that beautiful lady was me. ...

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draconian dad stubbornly immovable until grandbaby grandbaby request cant be denied by papa amazed baby dad...

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Swear words, public nudity Teen-aged crime and murder sprees Abortion-on-demand, LGTQB ~ No place left for granny or me ...

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Aarohi, it took me so long to meet the tiger inside me. It took me so long to let the sparrow inside me go. Now that I can sing out like a thunderstorm, I hope that you can hear the determination you come from; I hope you know that you are not a limitation. You are the fearless agent prowling in the...

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A good man is hard to find, just as my Nana always said. That day, I witnessed tears in her eyes as she firmly stuffed the monthly tithe into the envelope and headed to church that Sunday morning. Earlier, she had been rightfully screaming at my granddad for hours. She was furious with the old...

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What hurts more than the fact I didn’t get to say goodbye Is the fact They’ll never see what I become....

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Seventeen years of memories, Memories we created, Forever to be won, Your absence leaves a gaping hole, A missing piece that can never be whole. In silence, I hear your voice, A treasure of stories,a heartfelt choice, Lessons learnt and memories to spare, You'd tell me your twists and turns, That I'd listen wide-eyed, With a heart that's on fire, I'll carry your love & legacy, And...

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they sit by windows streaked with time watching days dissolve to gray their voices, once a steady chime, now whispers none will hear or stay names they spoke with love and pride have softened into air and dust letters sent, unanswered, dried memories fading, left to rust the hallway hums with hollow sound a clock that ticks but never calls footsteps pass, but none are...

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She cried out for attention—was it really a game? Or was it the only way they’d remember her name? Her voice, an echo, lost in the night, Drowned by indifference, swallowed by spite. Her grandfather’s eyes, heavy with shame, Saw only a liar—never the pain. She was a burden, a whispered regret, A shadow of sorrow he’d rather forget. Lonely, broken, battered, and...

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I was worried they’d paint the house brown Or red or green or blue. I couldn’t even imagine They’d turn it into something new Now they’re ripping up the floorboards Like your absence tore my heart. It’s as though every nail they place Tears us further apart. 300 miles plus an extra six feet, 3.5 hours turned into four. But we never make...

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The older I get, the more I forget the names of colors. Would you call this paint amber, burnt ochre, or clay? Would it were the same with all of my dolors. But age hasn’t washed any of my dolors away. I finally saw hills as old as me, and it was such a pitiful sight to see, with many a...

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