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Man In the Chamber
Your memory stays glued in my mind.
The smooth boom of your voice filling the room,
Callused hands supporting my every step,
Glasses recording the moments passing by.
Your sweatshirts lingering with smoke from last night's bonfire.
Burnt toast flakes crumbling and crunching from your plate.
Working in the garage on project after project,
Those oil stained hands, clenching the faded red rag.
Taking naps, as snores like train horns blare behind the door.
Taking a hand of peanut M&M’s for every desert.
Taking an hour of time to learn the world around you, eyes turned stone,
Frozen,
Cold,
Unbreakable.
You’ve sewed all of these pieces into my head,
That smile being your needle.
Not planting new ones, to bloom and flourish in their wake.
What happened?
Where did he go?
The man wondering in my chamber of memories,
Trailing pain down every row.
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This piece is about a relationship between child and grandparent.