To My Grandfather

by Jake
(Monticello, GA, USA)

You beat me up,
you call me weak.
Yes I'm pathetic,
and so meek,
but what gives you the right to talk?
You chew tobacco right from the stalk.
Your old pathetic western ways,
Have already moved on, decayed.
So go back to your old ghost town west.
I'll stay with beloved, at my best.
But one more thing before I go,
I threw away your favorite hoe,
and to the trash can went your beer,
I feel safe near my friends
come find me there.