Grandma use to sing to me,
Every day, every night, and every time I went to sleep.
Her soft voice would fill the room,
As she kept the rhythm while patting my back,
My eyes would be sealed shut and mind pitch black.

But then Grandma was tired and ached.
Every day, every night, every time asleep before me.
Her soft breathe would fill the room,
As I listened to the rhythm of her heart beat,
My eyes wide open and hers petite

Now I’m singing to grandma,
One day, one night, as she laid in silence wrapped in flowers
Her breathe no longer there.
As I sang I kept the rhythm in her soul,
The casket now shut tight.
It’s now my turn to say goodnight.