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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1511738
The memories of my grandmother intended to be from the perspectives of all that knew her.
A loving mother to some,
A cherished friend to all,
Always chewing her bubblegum,
The helping hand when we'd fall.

Her face was soft and sweet,
Aged only with years of laugh lines,
Perhaps the perception from baked treats,
Or seemingly endless good times.

Her hands were tough and swollen,
After years of hard work done,
From her babies slowly crawlin',
To her grandkids grown and gone.

At times her voice was stern and somber,
But her laughter simply contagious,
The discipline that made us stronger,
The sound that left us all in bliss.

Some ears that never used to hear,
Some mouths too big to close,
They now are silent and they listen,
To every praise and all the woes.

To many an inspiration,
Or just a hug to keep us warm,
There is no perfect explanation,
To describe why we're so torn.

I don't much believe in heaven,
Neither in a burning hell,
But her spirit thrives within us,
To keep us doing well.

The words that were never spoken enough,
Believe me when I say they're true,
We're all going to miss her so much,
Ma, we all love you.
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