My grandfather’s words, a wisdom true,
“Don’t lend your umbrella, to those who forget you.”
I didn’t understand, in youthful bliss,
But life’s hard lessons, taught me the meaning’s kiss.
There are those who appear, when storms arise,
Seeking shelter, with tear-stained eyes.
But when the sun shines bright, they’re gone from sight,
Forgetting names, and the help given in the night.
Now, when they approach, under stormy skies,
I wonder if I’ll exist, in their sun-kissed eyes.
Will they recall, the hand that gave shade?
Or will I fade, like a forgotten shade?