somehow so rude,
sometimes full of courtesy,
mostly civil,
that's who he was,
unpredictable.
that was my grand father,
long ago in his hands,
his pampering volition,
kept on his teachings....
with strong reminders,
of the filthy world.
may i?
opening formula indeed,
for his tirade,
of the world "atlarge"
"you wont mange it",
he kept saying.
may i?
he would continue,
don't strain with it.
its the world.
May I?
Nashon Hargreaveas
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 07/13/2019
(1)
Poem topics: father, sometimes, long, strong, continue, I love you, I miss you, world, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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