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Autoplay OFF  •  4 months ago
He was a rock to me, calming and supportive in the midst of the troublesome sea. (Narrative inspired by today's prompt: role-model and my late Grandpa. RIP.)

Memory

He was a rock to me, calming and supportive in the midst of the troublesome sea, whilst the waves tirelessly crashed against me.

He was a rock to me, calming and supportive in the midst of the troublesome sea, whilst the waves tirelessly crashed against me. He clung on to my hand. I was a lifeline to him as much as he was to me.

He was a rock to me, calming and supportive in the midst of the troublesome sea, whilst the waves tirelessly crashed against me. He clung on to my hand. I was a lifeline to him as much as he was to me. He was my support.

I remember his face, lined, weathered and worn in like leather. But his eyes shone brighter than all the stars combined.

I remember his face, lined, weathered and worn in like leather. But his eyes shone brighter than all the stars combined. When he smiled, you knew it was sincere and uplifting, whilst the corners creased and the laugh lines loosened.

I remember his face, lined, weathered and worn in like leather. But his eyes shone brighter than all the stars combined. When he smiled, you knew it was sincere and uplifting, whilst the corners creased and the laugh lines loosened. He was my soul.

He taught me everything he knew. "Knowledge is power", he said. "And power is freedom."

He taught me everything he knew. "Knowledge is power", he said. "And power is freedom." I listened attentively to his stories, hanging onto every

He taught me everything he knew. "Knowledge is power", he said. "And power is freedom." I listened attentively to his stories, hanging onto every single

He taught me everything he knew. "Knowledge is power", he said. "And power is freedom." I listened attentively to his stories, hanging onto every single word.

I breathed it all in, each tale drawing me in. I couldn't get enough of it.

I breathed it all in, each tale drawing me in. I couldn't get enough of it. He was my heart.

No more is he. But his spirit lives on.

No more is he. But his spirit lives on. When I struggle, I feel him holding my hand.

No more is he. But his spirit lives on. When I struggle, I feel him holding my hand. When I laugh, I see flashes of him behind shining eyes.

No more is he. But his spirit lives on. When I struggle, I feel him holding my hand. When I laugh, I see flashes of him behind shining eyes. When I learn, I see his smile of approval.

I will always love you Grandpa...

... This was meant to be a poem but it torned out to be a story/narrative hybrid. Oh, well.... This poem is for my Grandpa who was my biggest role-model.

Even words can't express how much I loved him so I don't think this did him justice. But I still wrote it anyway. He was the kindest, most empathetic person I have ever met. I aspire to be like him. Though I only saw him every few summers, (we lived in different countries), I love spending time with him.

Thanks for reading. That's Iqra... OUT.

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