I want to scream at the computer how you're not just 25 words, not just some sentences on a sheet of paper, not just a face in the crowd, or a grave stone that will ultimately get weathered away and worn down so nobody can even see your name anymore. Nobody will ever know who you were or how amazing you were, HOW DARE THEY MAKE YOU 25 WORDS. Please, somebody tell me how this is fair. Only the good die, why not somebody else? Why not an evil, dark, person who can't love? Why not somebody who lives their life for their own benefit? Why?
Sing to me a ballad of tears, weave me a sweater of sorrow,
paint yourself into a rainbow and cover me
in colors so that maybe
I can pretend to smile and laugh
5 months is the hardest part because
people start to forget,
memories start to change,
people start to forget
don't let me forget.
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