if my grandfather had died
a fiesty man, firm on his two feet,
capable of cruelty and violence,
perhaps i wouldn't
grieve the way i do now, the
tears springing quick like
a leaping veil from the back of my eyes.
but he'd led a full life.
and everything he was on that day at midnight
was what he had been made to be.
he had been through it all, and was
a tired
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