Grandma you had promised me

Grandma, you had promised me

you'd be here when clouds weep. 

When I'd be afraid from thunderstorms,

you would wrap me in your arms.

But I can't see you, near or far.

Sun has hid behind the clouds,

I'm feeling alone in the crowd.

Grandma, you had promised me

you'd be here when I want tea.

Mum only serves milk twice a day,

which you know I hate to taste.

It's good for health; mum explains.

I have drunk half the cup,

one more sip is hard to engulp.

Grandma, you had promised me

you'd be here when I achieve something.

You'd cook my favourite pancakes,

and allow me to have with your lemon pickle,

that will make me smack my lips and whistle.

I'd help you make rice pudding,

just thinking about that time is so alluring.

Grandma, you had promised me

you'd me here when I need you.

Whenever I'd feel sad and alone,

I could always come to your home.

But now the home feels so vacant,

are you punishing me for some mistake?

Am I responsible for your head ache?

Grandma, you had promised me

you'd always keep your promises.

But you haven't kept any of these.

You haven't written any letters or called me,

you even haven't told me where you're gone.

I miss you every second, every occuring,

whether it's autumn or spring.