After grandma died, all the lies started to surface
Everyone all of a sudden got a purpose and a conscience
This one owes that one and so on
Now that she is gone everyone claims to have fond memories
And treasures beyond the imagination
But when she was here no one had time or the frame of mind
To go and visit her or even call except on holidays
Which most of them claim they don’t celebrate for one reason or another

Now they are reminiscing and missing Uncle Bob
They want to rob those ones who have his writings and poems
It wasn’t so important when he was alive and paralyzed
It was a chore

Now everyone is a writer like he was because he was published
This angers me because it took two deaths for them to cherish
The works that he and my grandmother had done
But not as a respect when they reflect on them
But as a nod to themselves because in their eyes
They are just like Uncle Bob
They wish it were true

You see from my view where I sit, they are all full of ****
Writing poems was very important to my uncle Bob
That’s all he had since that bus hit him that day
His legs went away from use but not his mind
And ability to rhyme is he wanted to
HE WAS A POET and I know it

Instead of assigning blame they should all be ashamed
It was an honor for them to call him brother
He wasn’t a molester or investor of their ********

Now Uncle Bob wasn’t a saint by any means
He did his dirt in the streets
When he got paralyzed he just continued his dirt from the sheets
And wrote about

His mind was still that of a genius
But of course they thought it all meaningless until he and grandma died

So I guess what I’m saying is
While we live just forgive and give a damn
Don’t try and take claim for something you wasn’t interested in
Or couldn’t begin to understand or respect

Just some food for thought like my uncle Bob taught.

I’m just sayin!!!


Ksw ©2010

Good reminder to celebrate a person while they are still walking on this Earth Plane, too late when they hang their shoes up and walk elsewhere..Fantastic write..