A flying rumour,now a news,
A sharp heart pain,
Tears falls like the dews,
Yet no gain.
As he went to sleep,
No more to wake or weep,
Now we gather here,
And quietly shed tears,
As we lay him in the ground,
No solace to be found.
Remembering the old times.
On my way to school,
He gives me tips
And back from school,
He gives me tea.
A quiet man,
Whose silence could speak volumes.
We are not mourning you,Grandpa,
Because ''someone who is about to die,
Does not mourn the dead''.
Grandma took a bow four years ago,
You take a bow now,
And my turn awaits me because,
Since the day of my birth,
My death began its walk,
It is walking towards me,
Without hurrying.
But Grandpa is not truly gone,
Because his memory lives on,
For all of us who loved him,
Never to be forgotten.
Enjoy your sleep Grandpa.
Your Grandson.