Poems to My Grandma123456789101112161314171815[7]

it is around your joy
that we sit down and smile

your concern about your looks is a toy in our hands

we take pictures
every year in your birthday
and every year you are
a colorful flower
beside the colorful table

years pass, and your joy does not vanish
your joy is made of steel
with its human frailty
eternal and serene
by Johnny Virgilto Maria Virgil
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