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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Contest Entry · #1589622
I was with my Grandfather when at the end
He never saw his last sunset,
He lay unconscious in a hospital room,
I sat there silently by his bed,
My blue eyes a wet rimmed red.

I looked out at the sunset,
At the peach of the ending day,
I heard him take a deep breath,
As if he had something to say.
© Copyright 2009 Prosperous Snow celebrating (nfdarbe at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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