A poem written at 14 years old inspired by my ailing Grandmother. I heard her repeatedly saying Mom, I am coming home. Her heavenly home.
What is it like to sit and wait Your only dream to die When you are living beyond your fate You bow your head and cry Some people scorn at dying They say death please don't come But when you are old in need of rest You need a peaceful home Death is beauty death is sweet It comforts you so dear So when the darkness before you come You need not shed a tear The tears once from your wrinkled face Will altogether soon depart When death and you embrace Loneliness will be but in the past Your dream will be fulfilled No more loneliness sorrow and hurt Which carried you through those last years Death is a new beginning It sometimes justifies the means For when you are old and lonely You may welcome death in
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