If the walls could talk

My son, Colin, read this poem to us this evening. He wrote it as an assignment in his 6th Grade Language Arts Class. It is very special. It makes me very proud to be his mom, and to be my dad's daughter.

It seems like only yesterday he left for Vietnam, says his walls.
He had four children, says the couch.
He hasn't seen them much since he moved. He has been so sick since he got cancer.
He had three dogs, but one of them died from old age.
He loved to cook, says the worn out stove.
He loved to eat, but he never did gain wight.
He was over seas during the war.
He was a Christian, says the fairly worn out Bible.
He was very young when he died. He was only 63 when he couldn't fight cancer any longer, say the empty pill boxes on his bedside.
His wife feels lonely without him. The grand kids miss him.
Everyone misses him, says the closet.
He always has a lot of flowers at his grave.
I hope to see him in heaven, say the dogs.
He was a very good man, says the bed.
He was an honorable man, and I was glad to be his pet, says the youngest dog.
He rests in Indianapolis, and I am very glad to be moving their soon, says the older dog.
He was as sweet as sugar, says the flour.
What are you talking about? He is a stubborn donkey, says the sugar.
Once I slipped on the the slippery floor and chipped. That gave him a sly smile, says the plate.
He is now in heaven.
He will be well taken care of there says a lizard who stays close to the house.
Rest in peace, says the house.

Ah, my precious, sweet, PRS'ing boy. You brought me to tears. I am so thankful that you shared this poem with me. Your grandfather is slyly smiling, and very thankful that you knew him so well.