
What he did have though is a child’s innocence, an inner fragility; only a few could feel.
He had the heart of an angel, only soft lips could utter…
He scribbled his words on the wall of my life so endlessly…
From a minute to another, he skillfully carved his existence on a never ending bundle of lines…
Now he is gone… And I am only left with echoes of his last breaths and the silence of the emptiness his presence used to occupy…
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