My grandfather loved me with all his heart.
I was swimming in red; drowning in greed.
He tugged me out, and gave me a head start.
Told me to run, to never stop to bleed.
He knew me better than I knew myself.
He felt my rage and didn’t blow it out.
I was lost, but he was sure of himself.
Confident; without so much as a doubt.
I ran and I ran, and red turned to grey.
Frail, I fell; grey to blue, I felt the wave.
Tremendous it was, I had lost my way.
All-consuming, it led up to his grave.
With tears overflowing, I now know why.
I had to fall, let the rage go, to cry.