<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354090" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Joint At Deathbed</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I smoked a joint<br>at my granddad’s deathbed.<br>In the living room of <br>childhood memories<br>Inhaling and Exhaling<br>blue plumes of smoke<br>Hours before he <br>drew HIS<br>last breath.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And<br>sitting at his deathbed.<br>as the grandfather clock struck<br>and the streetlamp outside the window<br>was turned on <br>and later off<br>I made my peace with God<br>and all consuming time</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I smoked a joint<br>at my granddad’s deathbed<br>Putting my hand on<br>his<br>he spoke, his voice a pale whisper.<br>“Nothing can be done about it”<br>These last words to me <br>from a dying old man.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I smoked a joint<br>At my granddad’s deathbed.<br>Sweet soothing numbness<br>Held sadness and sorrow at bay.<br>Unspoken words of gratitude<br>milling around inside<br>but alas <br>a day too late.<br>and “nothing could be done about it”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I smoked a joint<br>at my granddad’s deathbed.<br>in cold cool contemplation<br>alone in the darkness, I understood: <br>All you hold dear will perish.<br>summer holidays, <br>friendships, <br>love, <br>life.<br>And no, <br>“nothing can be done about it”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Old Man was right</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Carsten+Thomsen">Carsten Thomsen</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=354090" data-title="Joint At Deathbed de Carsten Thomsen" data-description="I smoked a joint at my granddad’s deathbed. In the living room of childhood memories Inhaling and Exhaling blue plumes of smoke Hours before he drew HIS last breath. And sitting at his deathbed. as the grandfather clock struck and the streetl..."></div> </div> </div>

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