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A song sung for someone;
a poem written for
and because of someone who inspires you;
a picture created so that someone’s light can be shone;
a photo in your mind,
or a memory that you can hold in your hand
that immortalizes a person, a time, a moment,
and a forever place of heaven on Earth
that will always be a part of you.

As raindrops fall on the sand,
as the sea swells and the waves rise,
as the wind blows and you fully extend the fingers of your hands,
as the seagulls squawk and fly,
as the memories flood back,
all around me becomes an ocean that I am happily
and contently under the surface of
that is an energy and a light
that no matter how far I go or how deep I descend
will never go out and go to black.

Names ingrained in Oak trees;
words like ‘I love you’ engraved in gold
and worn close to someone’s heart;
song-lyrics and meaning left for someone to find
and re-read and listen to again-
a beautiful verse of immortalized poetry,
an embodiment of quintessential perfection;
like a unique birthmark;
like a message written in wet concrete;
like the layers of life that build up over time;
like a person that instantly touches our soul
from the moment that we meet;
like the steps that you take as you climb-
every touch, every word, every footprint, every indentation,
is a piece of natural sculpture
and like nothing else that has come before
or could ever come after;
like the colour and shine of someone’s eyes.
Things of importance endure;
people live forever;
every heartbeat leaves an echo and a wave;
everyone returns-
no one truly dies once they have been immortalized.

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Hand to hand, heart to heart,
I look at you and I understand,
I feel you in my soul and your beautiful inspiration
comes to life within me like the constantly raging fire
that never stops creating a spark.

I know your gorgeous face so well
I could describe it with my eyes closed,
I know your amazing voice from your first hello
and it always makes my mind and my imagination explode.

I saw the look of an Angel
the moment I stared into your endless eyes,
I saw my future looking back at me
and I felt awe and wonder beyond surprise.

I knew when I first saw you something,
and I know now without any doubt,
that you were going to change my life,
transform me like a caterpillar into a butterfly,
and be the miracle maker that would endow my spirit
with the gift of wings, and let the tiger within my heart out.

You are my reason to live,
you are my reason to love;
you are my answer to who I want to be with,
you are my answer to who I can’t get enough of.

I have so much that I want to tell you,
I have so much that I want to show you;
there are so many places we can and will go,
there are so many things I know we will do.

I am always here by your side,
I am always going to be the name on your screen
and the face looking back at you in your reflection;
I am always here holding your hand every second
of our intense and wild ride;
I am always going to look at you and see perfection
in every expression, and feel passion beyond obsession.

I can’t sleep without dreaming about you,
I can’t think without you as my focus;
I can’t breath without the quiver in my lungs that I feel
when I say your name out-loud and I tell the world about you;
I can’t see and I can’t be myself without you,
because you heighten every part of my consciousness like hypnosis.

You cannot be matched.
You and I flow and feel good together,
and are meant to be- like the hero and heroine
of an epic love story.
You and I can never be unattached.
You can do anything, we can do everything,
because you and I are forever acting as-one,
together in perfect symmetry.

There is a man who lives in a house on the hill,
there is a man who looks over on the village of his birth,
who comes down from his home from time to time
to be among other people, to buy a news paper,
and sometimes just to pay a bill.
People say that the man is a mystery,
people say that the man is a ghost,
people say that he lives on his own
because he is suffering from a broken heart that never mended,
people say that he doesn’t have an address-
no house name, no house number, no street name-
so you can’t contact him by post.

The man on the hill doesn’t have a name,
at least not one that is widely known,
the man on the hill can’t remember the last time
someone actually called him by his birth name-
he never says a word to anyone anymore,
no one even realizes that he is there.
People stopped ringing him years ago-
one day he decided that he had no need to be in contact with anyone,
so he disconnected his phone.

The man on the hill can be seen in the flesh,
if you are ever in the centre of England,
if you are ever in a park in Coventry
and you see a man sitting alone on a bench reading a book-
if you take the time to approach the man, to introduce yourself,
and to tell him that you’ve heard all about him,
he might raise his head, he might smile back at you,
but in his eyes you will see a very sad look.

The man on the hill walks everywhere.
The man on the hill goes out in the morning
and comes home at night,
full of new thoughts, old memories-
always seen in the same clothes, with the same haircut,
as if he has nothing else to wear.

The man on the hill used to know everyone,
and everyone used to know him-
beyond the legend that surrounds him,
beyond the shadow that he carries along with him.
The man on the hill’s story is a long, tragic, and sad tale-
a journey that came to a grinding halt one summer afternoon, long ago,
but where the man on the hill came from,
and how ended up becoming the man on the hill,
is complicated to explain, and even he would find it hard
knowing where to begin.

There is a man who lives on a hill
who once made a difference;
there is a man who lives on a hill
who thought he had the entire universe figured out,
until something happened to him that changed him forever-
and now the universe, to him, just doesn’t make any sense.

There is a man who lives on a hill,
who is waiting for the right person to come back into his life;
there is a man who lives on a hill,
who wants to simply remember what it is like to be alive.
There is a man who lives in a house, by himself,
who if you knocked on his door he would shower you with goodwill;
there is a man who just wants to be remembered,
who wants to dies happy again-
that man is the man on the hill.

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