My Grandmother

Some of you will remember, I wrote a poem a few months ago about my Grandmother (but I named it 'My Grandfather'). Here's another collection of poems I've written about her.
If you don't know, she's got Alzheimer's/Dementia, which means she's forgotten a lot of things. She doesn't know who I am or mostly anyone in my/her family. But she used to play the piano, and since my Grandad gave me her piano book, I've been learning some of the pieces inside to play to her. Read to find out how it feels.

I hope you like them, and I'm sorry if they're kind of depressing.


2. Broken Keys


Sliding my fingers across them,

Blowing away the dust,

The piano keys reveal themselves,

Play them, now I must.


As old as they are thought to be,

Cracking from within,

I can still make out that faint tune calling,

Hiding as if it’s a sin.


The music growing louder,

Startling the eyes of her,

My grandmother sitting there in the corner,

With the toy cat, yet to purr.


Her eyes: blue like the ocean,

Her hair a delicate cream,

Her ears intent on listening,

The waft of another dream.


Those memories dug deep inside her,

Beginning to show on her face,

Those tears cradling within her eyes,

My playing must be a disgrace.


How can I let her hear this?

How can I make her feel bad?

For those memories were gone and lasted,

And now all is shown is sad.


The tune is familiar, I know it,

Because this piece she used to play,

Once she was moving her fingers,

Once in her hands the tune lay.


But know all she does is watch it,

As someone like me plays instead,

But down deep inside she knows it,

She remembers the tune in her head.


Things would be different if she remembered,

How to play it without messing up,

The beautiful sound of it singing,

She never wanted to give so much up.


But it’s not like she had a choice,

As the diagnosis took place,

We watched her tumble down and down,

At a faster then faster pace.


She fell between our fingertips,

We lost grip of her heart,

Memories of before snuck into of our mind,

Replaced with those left apart.


Now she’s almost leaving us,

But it’s as if she already has,

I’ll always remember that day I played to her,

Keys too broken to ever last.

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