Can't Remember.

For my grandfather, who I didn't live long enough to implant a memory.

He inspired.
He created.
He loved.
He cared.
And yet.
I hate.
His soul.
For leaving.
Me alone.
With only.
His art.
His inspiration.
His creation.
No love.
No memories.
Can't remember.
Don't remember.
Come back.
I want.
To remember.
To feel.
Your love.
Only paintings.
Only traces.
No you.
You fought.
The cancer.
You lost.
I hate
you for
not trying
even harder.
I wish.
You would.
Come back.
To me.
So I
can know
who you
really are.
I cry.
I want
to remember
so badly.
But I
truly can't.
So you
must speak
to me
with your
final creations.
You created
my mother
with your
love and passion.
All I
ask for
is that
same love.
Same care.
Come back.

Author's Note

All I have left is his paintings.

Reviews

[Bella-Marie]

That's very sad. I have all grandparents up and running, so I really can't feel empathy... but it sure sounds as if it's hard to deal with having to try and love someone you've never met. A great little poem. You changed your style half-way through, and although it just worked, be careful!