The Fragile Vase
Zoë Zmuda
I stopped,
My world stopped.
My grandpa. My best friend.
Cancer? There was no way.
We would always laugh,
We would always play,
Like the time we were playing
And broke grandmas fragile vase
On to the hardwood floor.
But it was true,
That little evil disease
Had made it’s way into my family.
I thought my papa was invincible.
But the disease,
With all its power,
Took him over
And now refuses to let go,
And one night,
When I learned the truth,
My world came falling down
And breaking like a fragile vase
Falling on the hardwood floor.
Photo by: SAMANTHA BERGSTROM