Slowly DyingMature

This is another poem to my grandad. when i found out he had 6 months to live.

Your slowly dying,
I'm always crying,
Your slipping away,
But i want you to stay.

Don't slip away,
I want you to stay,
I think i saw you,
But its not true.

I can't see you,
You don't want me too,
I miss you, Love you,
Believe me it's true.

6 month left,
It was said,
I'm so sad,
It made me made.

My only question is why?
Was it me,
Who did you wrong?
I close my eyes,
End with a song.

The End

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