Tuesday, August 4, 2009

the end

I am a book
this is my story
you read the whole thing
and came to The End.
Now you are
doubled over
with grief
retching
from the pain of it
drowning
in a sorrow
you can't swim through
and standing
too close
to see the whole picture:
reaching the conclusion
and closing now the cover
does not mean
that this book
never existed.
The story may end
but the book
continues.
Dwell on the bulk
and not this
the smallest chapter,
and remember
that The End
is never the end.

This is a poem I wrote for my grandfather who died April 4, 2009 after battling PSP (Progressive Supranuclear Palsy) for a few years. It is a horrible degenerative brain disease that impairs movement and balance and affects the muscles - most sufferers choke to death. There is, as of yet, no cure and no treatment.

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