I’m in a hospital, holding pink grandmas hand.
She’s been sick a lot, I feel fear within.
I look away when they take the blue band,
And drawl the blood from her frail arm again.
The time is going slowly by.
Without the pacemaker battery switched she’s afraid she’ll die.
I just went through the loss of my dad.
She slowly starts to complain and sigh.
Oh dear my pink grandma is getting mad.
Her dementia and anger tends to make her quam.
Then her temper gets really bad.
Slowly she start to be calm.
Sadly it is time for me to go.
So now I walk from U of L to Old Clarksville, with the wryness that someone’s watching me though the window.