grandpa was strict
i remember
for a Red Cross Donation
that i asked from him
and which he considers
as my debt
he did not forget
to remind me and
thus collect
i was then 12 and he
was 60
i was disappointed but
he did not mind
a debt is a debt and must
be paid
the years may have buried
him for good
but the memory of a debt
paid still lingers
the numbers are clear
as always
some words may have faded
but the feeling
sticks like a scar
in my face....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem