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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