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My Grandpa

My Grandpa

By. Roy Oda

 

He would always smile

So much that it was recognizable by a mile

 

He would never harm a pest

Because he was one of the best

 

If we could we would keep playing

Till the end of the day

 

His arms filled with toys

Then we would go and eat poi

 

I wasn’t there the day he died

But his bright light shall never die

This poem makes me...
  • Think (5%)
  • Smile (0%)
  • Somber (67%)
  • Surprised (0%)
  • Feel a Connection (29%)
  • Inspired (0%)
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