Sad Grandfather Poems | Sad Poems About Grandfather

These Sad Grandfather poems are examples of Sad poems about Grandfather. These are the best examples of Sad Grandfather poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |



Hi, grandpa, it's me again!
Your dentures sit in an open glass above the nightstand
Remember the tears grandma sang before she passed?
The way she looked into your eyes, 
Moments before she said her goodbyes
Grandpa, I found a note from grandma, 
She waits for you.

Hi grandpa, it’s me again!
The rocking chair is old and dusty
Remember the way grandma sat me on her lap?
Read many stories before I took a nap
How she enjoyed stroking my hair with her hands
I miss the way she rocked me to sleep every night 

Hello, grandpa!
I stored your hearing aid away
Remember that special musical box in grandma's drawer? 
I opened it last night, to watch the ballerina soar
I wish you could hear the tiny chimes grandma loved
I hope you don’t mind, I’m keeping grandma's favorite scarf

Hello, Grandpa!
I'm caressing grandma’s picture frame
Remember the way she looked in the yellow pretty sundress?
Grandpa, I miss the things grandmother did for you
Like the walking cane, she handcrafted before she left

Hello, grandpa, it's me again! 
Here I sit holding your hand
I have no more tears
Soon you will see her again
She will no longer be alone
Say hi to her, give her a kiss
Tell her I miss her so much
Bye, grandpa


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? |

For Men Everywhere One Billion Rising

1 Billion Rising.

For Men Everywhere.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!


Stop the abuse!

Of grand-daughters,

all women.


Listen to the voices!

Of grand-daughters,

all women.


Think of how you treat,


all women.


Act now to change yourself!

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when you stop,

the violence,
the abuse,
the rape.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

is perpetrated by,



all men.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

stops when us men stop,

The violence,
the abuse,
the rape,

today, now.

Stop! Listen! Think! Act!

Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse |


He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
All results of

Copyright © Laura Hamilton | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |


My Grandfather High-backed chair facing the corner, Window over books so cherished Loved. Like the greatest of scholars, but still humble He was a trove of stories Air of silence on a place once full Of stories from a time past, A time of honor and courage and duty Of country and spirit; fighting an enemy Made from indescribable evil. Tales of valor, sand, and bullets Lions and machine guns, young men in battle Fighting for their lives. Knowing the enemy was like a jackal Cruel and twisted, an army of evil He witnessed it all First hand, in the heat of the day And cold of night. Tales passed on, spoken In a way that conveyed such knowledge That one was to sit in amazement, and hear it Firsthand from the chair facing the corner. Like a throne of deep thought. The day he left this world, I wept. Seeing him not but a day before, It was harder than I could have imagined. The pain is real, but so were the memories And so the legacy of the veteran lives on. The chair sat vacant, but I felt him there. The books on the shelf, the other treasures Left behind held him here on earth While the memories anchored him in our hearts. The man in the chair shall never be forgotten And the stories shall pass far into the generations.

Copyright © john locke | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |

Final Adieu

Final Adieu

Let another sun set,
Let another flower wilt,
Let another autumn cast its gloom,
Let another tear role,
As ye part, and bid
The final adieu.

Suyash Saxena
St. Stephen’s college

Copyright © Suyash Saxena | Year Posted 2013

Details | Epitaph |

To My Amazing Grandfather

My grandfather was the wisest man
That I had ever known.
I did not know how wise he was
‘Til I was wise and grown.
He told his story through his words,
So grand you can’t defile it;
He told us of his stories as
An Army Air Corps pilot.
My grandfather was precious to me,
A dear and treasured friend.
But just like all great friendships,
This one had to end.
But after dying, I guess that
Our bond won’t cease to grow,
For while he was alive
I didn’t know the things I know.
I heard his stories from his friends,
And all of them were rife
With anecdotes that showed him as
A hero in real life.
Though all heroes come and go,
When the day is done,
My dear, amazing grandfather,
You’re the greatest one.

Copyright © Joseph Coogan | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet |

Goodbye Granddad

Gravity pulls my tears into pools.
Im sinking in sorrow -emotional fuels. 

Just turn back the time, I just want a moment. 
To say goodbye once, to cherish and own it. 

I loved my granddad - a man more than great.
Paired with my Granny as the perfect mate. 

A montage of memories that rush my soul.
My eyes fill with tears, I'm losing control. 

Just keep it together, it's what he would want. 
They all say the same, but I stand in front. 

Happiness swells, yet sadness prevails.
Like Christ on the cross, with hands full of nails. 

Life has a reason, and death isn't treason.
-It's moving on up.. A lifetime's a season. 

I look to the sky and say my goodbye.
The time won't turn back, I gave it a try. 

I close my eyes and imagine this-
Paradise in a place full of bliss. 

World peace in a piece of the world.
Without loss and bombs never hurled. 

Snow that falls that doesn't freeze.
Sun that shines that doesn't cease. 

A land where "The forever" is real.
A scene where the sick always heal.

Life with infinite love, like gusts in the wind.
Two little doves, with eternities to spend. 

God has a plan, fool-proof to the core. 
Now Granddad's with him, a reward of much more. 

-Yours Truly

Copyright © Yours Truly | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

My Great Grandpa

Great Grandpa Zerbst, I wish was here
I'd like him still around
He had a herd of Hereford cows
His farmin' sense was sound

He passed away when I was young
I'd only seen him twice
But even though his life was rough
I'm sure that he was nice

At first, he had some horse-drawn rigs
To grow his crop of wheat
A tractor then, in place of them
That had a metal seat

He had a herd of ninety cows
A huge Wyomin' spread
But now a herd of oil-rigs
Are drillin' in their stead

A lot of things Great Grandpa knew
From distant Germany
But now these things I wish I knew
Are buried 'neath a tree

Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013

Details | Lyric |

Over The Bridge

It is here I am safe
It is here that I know
but over the bridge 
Is where I must go

The bridge that gives passage
over quick muddy water
though why I say that
I don't know why I bother

over the bridge 
is a tall oak tree
and standing beneath it
is someone waving at me

crossing the bridge 
I see a man standing there
with paint splatered pants
and a head of white hair

looking closer I see 
exactly who's there
I see it's my papa
and I can't help but stare

I run right toward him 
and give him a hug
I ask how he got here
his response is a shrug

it's then I remember 
the fact that he'd died
it's then I remember
the tears that i'd cried

I ask how it felt
when he had died
he then looks at me 
and he promptly replied

he calmed all my fears
about what lies boyond
then he looks up 
because the suns almost gone

he says I must go
before the sun sets
but I don't want to leave
I'm not quite ready yet

he gives me a hug 
before I go
then tells me I can't share
the things I now know

I give a quick nod 
looking up at the sky
I don't understand
but I don't have time to ask why

turning around 
I try not to cry
I just cross the bridge 
when the sun leaves the sky

I turn back to look
one last time at the tree
but my papa is gone
as was meant to be


Copyright © Anne Hessler | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

She has gone

Standing there alone at the graveyard
Calling yearning memories of the past
Can't stop his tears , that's truly hard
She has gone , What a dote didn't last!

Shrouded by thoughts , downcast eye
Her voice is still beating in his ear
She was singing like a bird under the clear sky
When he played harp and waterfall was near

Can't forget these hoary promises to be together
On good and bad , To make love their guide
He just wanna say he will be loyal forever
Until his soul meets her on the other side

By: A. Badr

Copyright © Ahmed badr | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |

The old man

just as everything is in its place 
the cracked pitcher in the cellar’s window 
the maize porridge pot amid the verandah flowers 
the knife sharpener in the kitchen table’s drawer 
the squared clock hung slanting on the wall 

day after day the old man 
takes off the straw hat from its hook even if it’s cloudy 
pulls it down on his head with both hands 
opens the street gate till it hits the wall 
upright like a thistle he looks down the road 

under the hat colored like an autumn sun 
it gets warmer 
his face furrows overturn a smile 
as if the moist earth sliced by the old times plough 
under the steps of sons grandsons and great-grandsons

Copyright © Cristina M Moldoveanu | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

I'll pretend I'm sleeping

I used to have to do that thing you know
Children should be seen and not heard
Know your place your still young
Dont you say a word
Couldn't understand any of this
Yet it became a default of mine
So when danger came wandering 
I did not know what to say except Im fine
So scared to speak to anyone
Too busy you always say 
Was that man supposed to touch me
Didn't seem quite right that day
Yet everyone around me
Doesnt see my plight
So I pretend it hasn't happened
And when you appear next time
Ill pretend I'm sleeping 
And hope you pass on by
Dear Grandad I hope this hurts
As in your grave you rot
For stealing my childhood
For the me time lost- to the me you forgot
Yet I blame them aswell as you
They always knew you were bad
So when I lay blame at your door
I get so very emotional and sad
As everyone of them forgot me
Thought I was ok
Just because I faked a smile
Went out pretending to play
Then I forgot what you did
Till I was of age
Now I have to write it down
As its too painful to say
So if you hear your children
Dont repeat that saying of old
Its wrong and its not valuable
To make your child feel so very cold

Copyright © Gail Lewis | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

The Bad Man

Atuk was a bad man,
He split his family, lost his money
He drank the dark tearful sorrows away,
As he walked he abused,
The syahadah he refused,
He was a bad, violent, angry dark man.

He made people cry, 'specially his wife,
As he stormed through life, he did it his way.

Make no mistake, he loved them.
In his own bad selfish way, he loved them.
His rough weaknesses distorted that love,
Beer upon beer, drinking made it curve,
and bend and warp and coiled,
His accidental failures destroyed,
decimating every life that was in
proximity! his life murdered plenty

This wasn't just love, this was a family
and that success never comes easily,
Nobody finds that they can live happily
ever after; like the themes of Kafka

Family conflicts with love,
Love is a constant deed,
A family needs, a father must feed,
A father creates; a father, he failed.

Love? Love is a feeling, an intention,
The warm rocking of the waves, they push you
The gentle breeze; it caresses you too,
Love is romantic, it is a concept
Life has other plans for this dreadful man

Atuk gave me my first book, you must know this
He defended me against the rest of
my angry, confused, frowning family
Like an unused broken facsimile
He couldn't stop, He never stopped.

Those long talks at the corner of the bed
Colored me long after; now I get it
he would've smiled at me once I got it

He would've smiled that sweet and toothless smile
Through the Benson & Hedges fog he smiled,
The bad man in his tattered kain pelikat
and that strong mixture of Old Spice and sweat

He was a charmer; handsome when he smiled
Man with a secret life, an angry wife,
Separated children, He smiled;
even when he was filled with strife

Never for me, I hope
Coz When he left I moped,
My mind on dope,
I lost that hope.

Atuk was a bad man, so it seemed
He beat, He screamed, He troubled and he dreamed
He failed and he broke until he was broke,
He drank He cursed He left
He left God Damn It He left

He comforts He talks He gave me chocolates
He gave me books he gave some proper words.

This horrible rojak that I concoct,
Proof that words are all I have ever got,
And the bad man with that smooth toothless smile ,
He gave these words to me
The bad man; He loved me,

No matter where you are, handsome bad man,
Know that I love you, man
Oh, charming bad man with the toothless smile,
For the last and first time, let's chat and smoke.
Goodnight, bad man, Till we meet again, Tok.

Copyright © Al Amin Abdul Moin | Year Posted 2016

Details | I do not know? |

A grandfather I never saw

Five days before I was born,
my dear grandfather was gone.
Not knowing the cause 
why he went .
There was a pause 
through which i was sent

oh father! oh father !
cried my mother .
Was it to take him 
Oh god!
you sent me without a word
i thought

By came an old woman
whose hands were weak and swollen.
She said with a smile-
When one light goes mild ,
another light will shine.

then i knew -
Even though i never saw him, 
he lives deep in my heart 
where his soul never dies.

Copyright © kavya sudhir | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse |


Plovdiv is the city where my Mom
was born and where I used to take 
my long summer vacations in Bulgaria—
when days were hot, sunny and bright.

I remember the many happy days
I spent with my beloved grandparents
—Mama Milla and Dedko—far away
from Manhattan where I lived and
where Dad slaved as a UN diplomat.

Where are these happy days now? 
Where are my dear grandparents? Where
is Plovdiv and its beautiful city park?
Where are Plovdiv's streets shimmering
under an unbearably hot summer sun?

Gone are Mama Milla and Dedko! Gone
are the days joyfully spent with them!
Gone is their heart-warming apartment!
Gone is the city I used to know and love!

Everything is only a fading memory now.
Like that granite statue of a Soviet soldier
I used to see every day from my window—
probably replaced by a monument glorifying
in marble the autocratic General now in power.

Copyright © Ross Vassilev | Year Posted 2016