Since I was threatened with birth i've been sent to this Earth, And learnt there's no weapon that hurts more than the lead of a verb. Or the venom of nouns. Combined it's a deafening sound, To hear my grandad died was a landing knife that took a second to drown. It's eternity of surgery, It's buried yet yelling so loud, He was a third of me and now we're divided the recurring three's will murder me, While he's sent to the clouds. I remember you proud whilst I dismember the now, And remember it's better to smile than to temper a frown. But i'm fending a thousand thoughts off across this drawbridge, I'm passive often but placid's offspring is the bastard orphan that I foster. Inside this plastic torture chamber my flaw is patience, And the pen has made me pause and pace, sit and stand while wars are raging, Stalling pages. So I've had writers block since May tenth twenty eleven, I've had to empty my head and focus on what's meant to be Heaven. I surrended the penning of feelings to welling at ceilings, Took two years comprehending God stealing my mentor and healing. Now i've centered the seal and demons fade to hollow sound, Your solemn bow followed doubt that I'd ever grow on solid ground. I was lost and found as thoughts would drown in nightly slums, So I tried writing some and a rose grew through like shining suns. Your time would come when we'd least expect it, I can't hold a smile to front, But congratulations, great grandad, I see your soul inside my son.