Little poem about my grandad.

History's eyes hold star lit nights,

A dark expanse that's filled with lights.

So many memories laid here rest,

Under heavy lines and aching chest.

Tales of old remain untold,

Of love interests and school friends bold.

While History sits with heavy lids,

'Put up with' by careless grandkids.

We should learn from those with past,

For they know that time doesn't last.

These lives we live are fleeting now

So few years till the final bow.

The End

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