When will I ever understand
The full extent of being gone?
One day alive, walking on this land,
Next day getting a call from Grandpa John.

How will I get through the rest of my life
I can't even get through this one day.
Grandpa must go through the loss of his wife
Everything is still grey.

I won't let myself believe
that Grandma has really moved on.
I think it's a joke, I cannot grieve,
No, not until I understand the real meaning of gone.

by Kayla Richardson

Other poems of RICHARDSON (6)

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