So now you lay there on your deathbed
Your heartbeat flows at a steady pace.
Your eyes are shut, you're dreaming
Lost in a land, a heavenly place.

And here, I lay here on my deathbed
Trying to remember the memories we shared.
Yet nothing particular comes to mind
Not one simple gesture to show you cared.

So I lie here on my deathbed
Thoughts of anxiety branch out to you.
I wonder if you're doing all right
And if you're thinking about me too.

So you lay there on your deathbed
In a body occuppied for a good 83 years.
And I lay here in a body, dying slowly
Drowning in fifteen years worth of tears.

And so I lay here in my deathbed
Thinking of all the things you've said,
"I wish bad luck upon you forever
I guess it's bad luck to be (blank)-teen and feel dead...

So you've wished bad luck upon us all
And how this family received it so
So as I lie here in my deathbed
Before we both die - you need to know..

I write this as your grand daughter
The daughter of your son that you still hate.
I write this with all the bad luck
You wished upon my fate.

Grandma, I'm nothing special
I know you preferred the rest over me
Because I'm the daughter of your un-favourite
But I don't care, I just want you to see -

Me, I don't play favourites.
Regardless of what you did or said
And as your grand daughter I'll still love you
Even after I'm gone and dead.

Grandma, I still love you
Even if you don't love me.
Because I could never hold a grudge
Against my blood, my family.

But now you're on your deathbed
You're dying, slipping away..
And I never told you "I love you."
As I think back to younger days.

And if somehow this poem can reach you
I want you to listen and consider what I say
Because, Grandma, this is important
Just put some thought in it today.

I know you don't love Papa
Because you loved Auntie Erma best.
And you left him angry in rejection
Because he didn't pass your favourite test.

And as you lay there on your deathbed
I can see how angry he is.
Grandma, Papa deserves another chance
It shouldn't have to end like this.

My father's a good man, honestly
He works hard to fulfill our needs.
He goes to work and pays the bills
And on Sunday he's with the Lord on his knees.

Grandma, can't you just tell him?
Or send him some sign today
To show him that you love him
Because not all stories have to end this way.

And, Grandma, while you do that
Could you send me a sign too?
Because I'd like to know you love me
And even if you don't, I still love you.

Very good, very good...I have a question though: Are you depressed or anything? I kind of get that vibe from your poems. If you ever want to talk, I'm here. ;p

I have some really high ups, and really low downs... and i've been really low for awhile... poetry is my escape route... instead of cutting or something, I write. Plus, I think morbid poetry is pretty

Yeah. I used to write some really sad stuff, but now it's just sad...:) I really like your poems though. You clearly have more talent than I do, seeing you can write a lot of long poems and still hold people's interest. I get bored with long poems I write,or I will accidently change subjects. Lol. ;p