By Emma Shippey-Hoskin
How could time get away from us so fast?
Vanish behind the holy portrayal
Forever with the dead hand of the past.
Disease has parted us in betrayal,
If only it could have been prevented
And then we could have had more time to spend
As a grandchild and granddad contented.
I as the girl now at a bitter end,
Trying to reach but are always pulled back
By the thick rope of preposterous strife
And how much I miss those days I now lack.
I wish I could have seen your line of life,
So that I could forbid the end to come
Even when I know that you may succumb.