The tearful thoughts,
the bottle is empty,
the hearts aren't pumping,
the family tree is shattered,
the tears are landing.
Life's not fair,
karma's a bitch...
what have I done?
The memory of the digital camera
is blank,
the slates are black
and the rims are colorful.
The mind is blank,
pictures in my father's room
spark my curiosity.
Who were they?
What were they like?
Were they nice?
When will they come visit?
Never...
Though my dad knew them,
I sure didn't,
my dad always refers to them.
"My dad worked really hard.
My mom made better sticky rice,
it was delicious."
13 years of life
with pictures.
No white hair,
no greeting,
no saying "hi grandma and grandpa"
just a life
of sorrow,
of regret to be born sooner,
the crying, choking Clementine calls them forth,
with a boo who
but no answer...
This is dedicated to the grandparents I never got to meet.
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