Math with beans
You taught me math with beans
You wished to be seen
As my only mentor
No one's ready to say goodbye
Line of memories pass by
Of a further childhood
You heard of my winnings
In time of your failings
The whole time I was sinning
By not calling daily
Lucky to be old enough
Never old enough tought to shed a year
After you're no longer here
It was forty degrees
And still, you see
Upon kissing your cold skin
I chilled
No one can replicate your rice
The way you did was nice
The kind to feel homesick
As soon as you saw the end
You felt like in the place to mend
You should be thankful
I wish I would care whole it still matter
Now I live my life like the earth was flatter
Because it is
My speech on the aisle to people made of iron
Unconcerned of who'd ring the siren
It's how it is
Math with beans
Poema escrito em inglês em homenagem à minha falecida avó que me ensinou matemática através de feijões