Grandma Poem by Elizabeth Grace

Her boy died today.
They found him this morning,
lying on the bed
in the homeless shelter
where he was staying.
The eyes that never
saw much beyond the
cacophony in his mind
will never see again.

Her boy died today,
leaving fifty years of stress
of pain, of tears
and memories.
Maybe one last seizure
claimed him in the night.
Maybe the years of drug use
finally caught up with him.

Her boy died today
in a homeless shelter
because that was where
he needed to be.
It wasn't because they didn't love him.
They loved him
like any broken child
needs to be loved.
They loved him with
all the love they could
afford to give him
without their souls
being destroyed from within.

Her boy died today,
and even though he had hurt her
time after time
there was still a sadness
echoing in her eyes.
Eyes that have seen too much sadness.
It leaves me wondering
when does the point come
that a heart is so broken
and a life so shattered
by the pressing weight of the world
that it collapses?

Her boy died today
and though I hardly knew him,
I know he must
have had some good within him
to deserve a love like that.