The Grandfathers Of PoetrySoup
I hit post and send my words
into this busy, glowing website
where I’m fifteen, the youngest voice,
surrounded by grandmothers’ stories
and grandfathers’ quiet smiles,
moms who cheer me on
and dads who nod like it matters.
I don’t mind being the baby here
your words feel softer than home.
You read my late-night poems,
drop comments like warm blankets,
and make me feel safe
when walls at home feel cold.
You’ve cheered my every awkward line,
Took the time to read what no one else does,
and loved me more
than I’ve ever known in my real world.
Here, I’m more than just a kid,
I’m part of a little family
built from hearts and usernames.
So thank you for each encouraging word,
for telling me to keep writing,
for being my virtual grandparents and parents,
for becoming the safe place
I never knew I needed.
I’m grateful for you all,
my internet family,
who love me more than home.
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