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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1673563-Ode-To-Grandfather
Rated: · Poetry · Biographical · #1673563
Questions About My Grandfather
And have you drifted into the midst of time?

Do I have to move heaven and earth to find you; if so then I'll try.

Am I the only remnants of you, this reflection lost in a maze; this body, soul and spirit in which I often gaze.

The form you left behind, this small girl wrapped in sin;

you've spoke to me in visions...this life shall never end.

Not until I've found you and my soul can rest!

Your suffering continues from heavens great abyss, as you watch

your youngest Grandchild self-destruct in the way you did.

Can any of us escape it? The ties of blood which bind;

I only know your memory shall haunt me until I die?

  Have all forgotten you existed, when I'm judged or

shoved aside...they ne'er see you in all I do, they refuse

to look upon my "other side."

And yet it seems the strongest, for blood cannot be fooled,

wishful thinking can lie and cheat you away but in truth I'm part of

you.

Never will I stop, or cease this fruitless chase, I have to find

you somewhere; I have to see your face...for there's a rebel

in me, a burning fire inside and it never came from all these

people that I've come to know as mine.

I'll never hate ye Grandfather...wherever you have been;

I've heard the worst about you but still I'm your kith and kin

and whatever horrid acts you've done I've already forgiven.

And I promise you I'll find you and I will not sink as deep and

I will not die young and hopeless in the sea of Isla drink.

You, yourself has kept me from knowing who you were...

why did you have to perish so long before I was born?

  All those myths and legends which surround your name,

you could have cleared what has been said, if you had lived

to explain! Why did you leave this world without so much as

a word, a letter of some kind, telling of your hurt?

And out of three Grandchildren...why did you chose me?

To be a rebel, the fighter, the one who'll set you free?

Do I remind you of you in your youthful hours...was it my

mind or feeble frame that drew your ghost beside me?

  I know your here;I see you in myself, my mind,

my longings. And I never sleep for in dreams I greet your

spirit which guides me.



You are not dead and ne'er forgotten, not for as long as I live...

your spirit, your sorrow, your flaming desires dwell still within

this skin.
© Copyright 2010 Fianna Jester (madshelley at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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