Your family loves you very much, they always go to you every Monday to give you your favorites. What happened was invincible. It just that . . . everything comes to an end.
You are bold, fierce, fearless, and funny;
People are happy to be with you;
Actually you are out ot my league;
We are a two different people,
And actually I hate people like you,
But now I can say I do not hate you,
Like never at all.
Because why would I hate you,
If you make people happy with your corny jokes and such;
You make people smile,
By just simply being yourself;
Smiling, teasing, laughing,
easy-going;
Saying hello, approaching.
You are only twenty-seven,
And they say you are too young to leave this world;
And they say,
"Condolence,"
See you through the lens.
Rest in paradise,
Ride in heaven;
See you on Sunday,
At seven,
Where there is a white raven;
On August ten,
Rest in paradise,
Rest in peace;
You are such an amazing person to forget;
Rest in paradise;
There,
You would not have to cry,
And the wounds will not turn into scars;
There is no one who will hurt you anymore,
I will remember you whenever I see the stars.
They were talking about you;
They said, "Why are you like that?
What are you doing with your life,
Do not you see it is a mess?"
And you said,
"I am living in the moment,
Having fun –
Why do not you mind your own life instead?
We are different people with different life anyway."
Then one day people got doomed,
Because you got into a dark accident;
The road was wet;
It was raining really hard,
And you were riding fast,
Not wearing a helmet;
With your two-wheel twin by your side,
Your head got stuck;
Your family said, "He is okay, resting in the hospital,"
But then after two days, my grandma came here,
And told us, "He is dead."
And seeing all of those,
When you were still wearing uniform;
They say you always make people laugh,
And I like you for that;
We are different,
But at least we have two things in common;
First, we are both the first born;
And second, we love making people happy –
I do not understand people like you at first,
But then I realized the world needs people like you.
I thought it was sweet clouds;
At least . . . you got to see them before you left –
What does it feel to be there?
It must be free;
Please rest in paradise.
Because there,
You would not have to cry,
And the wounds will not turn into scars;
There is no one who will hurt you anymore,
I will remember you whenever I see the stars . . .
