My Grandma’s Wallpaper was very bad,
Put up by my father in 1972,
The year of my birth,
It remained until she went into a care home suffering from dementia
thirty five years later,
As her only grandchild I was very spoilt,
Her flat was full of love, fun and comfort,
Much better than my parents house,
Which had rules,
I wept as I took that last look at her flat,
Nothing remained but that wallpaper,
That would be torn down by council decorators,
While they talked about football or women,
Men who could not have known or cared that this small space
Meant so much to me,
And is a part of my life which is gone forever,
I loved my Grandma but she is gone,
She could not have lived forever.
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