SMALL SCRAP OF PAPER

Yes, there is a story behind this. I'll tell it to you. When I was twelve years old, I wrote a poem for the second anniversary of 9-11. A year later, I sent a copy to my great-grandma, who submitted it to her local newspaper. They published it 9/11/2004, changing only one word so that it said three years later instead of two years later, as I had originally written it. Shortly after it was published, my great grandma sent me two copies of the one they published, one for me, and one to give to my other grandma. I never got around to giving the other one to my other grandma. March 3, 2005, she passed away. This is basically a poem of my regrets; of not getting around to giving that grandma the other copy of the poem.

I had all the time
In the world.
Or so I thought.
But now she's gone.
And it still sits there.
Just one small scrap of paper
Sitting in an envelope
With just one small letter
That still sits there.
The words haunt me.
"Give it to your other grandma."
But she's gone.
And it still sits there.
Why did I wait?
I would have meant the world to her.
She would have treasured it.
Just one small scrap of paper
Full of poetic thoughts
From the view of a twelve-year-old.
Just one small scrap of paper.
But it would have been like gold.
"Give it to your other grandma."
But now she's gone.
And it still sits there.
Why did I wait?
Because I had all the time
In the world.
Or so I thought.
But now that time has passed.
And now it's too late.

© S.N. 2006-2007

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