You’re gone.
That’s all I really know.
Last Wednesday, you opened your eyes when I came.
By Sunday, you’d never open them again.
I shook and I cried.
I felt sick inside.
Everyone says that you’re at peace.
That you suffer no more.
That you watch over us day and night.
I pray that they’re right.
But I miss you.
I miss your laugh.
I miss your smile.
I miss the tears you’d cry.
I miss your wave “goodbye.”
They say you’re in heaven,
If you believe, and I do,
Because, Dziadziu, now that is the only way I can be close to you.
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