She Died on My Eighth Birthday

On my saddest birthday ever, I turned eight.

I barely got to say goodbye because I was just too late.

My dear grandma died and left me in a lonely way.

I'll never forget that it happened on my eight birthday.

And, it was her first and last death-day.

It left my little mind speechless, and I couldn't muster anything to say.

My birthday candles made me think of the ones she used to light.

It was a sad, sad sight.

Months after her death, I would still see her, and we'd talk.

I'd ask her, how, in Heaven, was her daily walk.