poem

Throat caught with baited breath
damp hankercheif in hand.
As the next person comes up
to shake Thy withered hand.

A man lies next to Thee
eyes once filled with laughter now are closed.
A life of much activity
the cancer did dispose

'An unexpected tragedy'
runs through Thy weary mind.
Who would've thought Thou would wake up
and in bed a corpse to find?

A man lies in a box
Thou must turn thy blurry eyes away.
From the man who had always promised
that he was always going to stay.

In memory of my beloved Grandfather