The Last Poem
The Last Poem
The year was two thousand and thirteen,
it was the end of the summer season.
She remembers it, not for her accomplishments,
but for a very different reason.
It was the year her grandfather passed away.
He was a man she could admire.
In letters she reminisced about the poems he wrote,
as he lay beside the fire.
He taught her never to speak unkindly of others,
to avoid being sued for libel.
His views on life, came from a cold steel knife.
And not from the pages of a bible.
His philosophy and outlook made an impact.
Now she doesn’t believe in God.
Like a sheep, without a shepherd,
she is following in the footsteps that he trod.
She remembers asking the age old question.
“What happens to us when we die?”
Through eyes that saw, the horrors of war,
he said “life after death is just a lie”.
There is a special poem she keeps neatly folded
in the pocket of her coat.
It reminds her of her grandfather,
it was the last poem that he ever wrote.