Beautifully written and from the heart.

Thanks for the advice Illuminati. I also thought the "I's" were iffy but couldn't figure out another way to say it.
The reason i say its my fault is because after he had a stroke he was supposed to die. He ended up living for 8 years but kept on deteriorating in front of our eyes; however I kept praying (selfishly) that he would not die. Finally, a few weeks before he died, I realized how unfair it was for me to keep asking God to keep him with me (after talking to my Grandpop). My Grandpop was growing a beard and not eating alot, and when I asked him why, he replied that it was the Lord's wish. To some people that might not mean alot, but he was never a religious person. That night (after some serious crying) I realized it was not up to me for him to live, since my grandpop did not want to be trapped anymore, and everyone around me wanted him dead. Which is why I labeled the poem "In God's Hands" because at that time he was in God's hands and God was going to decide what to do with him; He decided to call my Grandpop home.
JL
(sorry its so long)