My grandmothers’ were alike
Icy cold, alive and dead
With cold eyes and grim mouths
One could withdraw, from
Offered plates of sweet meat.
Their smiles they saved
For their old sons
The only memorable contact,
Are hugs so forced
I wish, I never asked for them.
what a 16 year old mind...you are to be kept at a museum not here .
ReplyDeleteThis is like a museum too!
ReplyDelete