My tears they flow, as I cry to my Grandfather,

“Don’t go!”

He drifts into a deathly sleep

the disease got to him and

seeped in deep.

My mother cries for her father,

he died.

But before he left

he said something sweet,

At night when the moon is bright

and the air is warm in the still of twilight,

look up into the dark of the sky

and find the brightest star,

that is me

winking at you,

loving you,

missing you.

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