Poem For My Granddaughter

Today all I know is I cannot get out of
bed.

The world has turned grey at the
edges.

Eventually it will shrivel up
completely.

I'm thinking of all the things I should
have done

And all that I have
not.

It's cold in
here.

I lie awake as the nights turn
black,

Congeal like blood.

My
dreams are a bitter pill,

Too thick to swallow
whole.

And when I do, they turn my
stomach

To
lead.

I want to be like
you.

So young to be travelling so
far.

Your postcards rattle through my
door

Like old ghosts to taunt
me,

stamping the scent of foreign
lands

On my
skin.

But the crowds are
thick,

Choking the air that I
breathe.

Now I prefer to stay behind closed
doors.

For today all I know is I
cannot get out of bed.

The world has turned grey at
the edges.

Soon it shall shrivel up
completely.

I'm thinking of all the things I should
have done

And all that I have not.