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A light has gone out.
A star has died.
The smiles and the laughter will live on
and dampen the fires of doubt;
who you were, who you are,
and who you will always be,
will fill our heart and soul with joy forever
and bring tears to our eyes.

You have been there all my life, since I was a child;
I cannot imagine the world without you in it;
your spirit still remains with us all,
and it feels like there is no one on this planet
who is not feeling an immense sense of loss right now
at your passing, and I myself am having trouble
coming to terms with the reality
that you are no longer with us, I have to admit.

It just doesn’t feel real;
it just doesn’t seem right;
knowing you are somewhere else makes me feel ill;
knowing that we all have lost someone special
makes me sad- like how a kid feels when he lets go
and can do nothing but watch the wind take away
the gift of joy that was his favourite kite.

I cannot begin to know exactly what to say;
I am genuinely struggling to know
how to stop myself from feeling so helpless;
I have been replaying every line and every word
that I heard you say all day;
I have been thinking about you
and about what I see of myself in who you were,
and echoes of you in me, and I see two people
who just want to make the world a better place
for us being in it, and also a shared wish
to surround ourselves with the people of this world
who to us are nothing short of the best.

Life is seldom straight-forward;
why we do what we do is not always easy to figure out;
life can sometimes seem like something
that we may want to run away from,
and sometimes we all can feel like a fraud,
but what you always taught me
was that no matter what is going on in our lives,
if we truly need and want someone to save us,
there is always someone waiting to throw us a life-belt.

You are someone who I will never forget,
and neither will my family,
as well as millions of people from all around the world,
who all agree wholeheartedly that you are one of the most
amazing, phenomenal, funny, smart, exceptionally-talented,
people there has ever been.
I will miss you so much, and I will remember you, watch you,
and think about you often, and I hope that you have found
what you were looking for, I hope you found peace.
Fly free. You will live forever.
Goodbye, you wonderful shining star.
Goodbye, Robin.

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From the day we are born,
we have good days and we have bad days,
from the first tear that we cry,
we shed tears of sadness and tears of joy,
from the first time that we are put to bed by our parents
and we fall asleep,
everything is new, everything is a daze,
from the first thing that we hold tightly in our hands-
whether it be someone’s finger, or a toy-
we all become attached,
we are all matched,
we all discover something important,
we are all running a race from the front,
and we are all setting our own pace
that will always be different.

We are all born with one special and important gift from day one;
we are all children of the Earth, the moon, and the sun;
we are all born with the gift of our life,
whatever that consists of, and whatever it will grow to become;
we are all brothers, sisters, daughters, and sons.

Every new day can be, should be, will be,
more beautiful than the last as long as you remember
that you are not alone and will never be alone;
every new phase that comes to pass
is the start of a brand new cycle that always takes you
where you need to go and then returns you home.

We all speak more languages than one or many we are knowingly taught,
but those communicative methods are those that are instinctive
and silently spoken, and not recognised
unless you are perhaps scrutinised by a psychotherapist,
or a body-language expert.

Sunny days are the best;
cloudy days are the days when we think and rest;
hot summer days make us all feel energised and great;
cold winter days make us all want to wrap ourselves up tight.

No matter what you do, live every day.
No matter what is happening to you,
or what you are going through,
don’t ever allow yourself to be shackled-
promise yourself to always act and be free.
No matter what time it is, or who you are with,
it always matters what you say.
No matter if things don’t always go as you planned,
just take a breath, go forward,
and say under your breath,
or outloud so everyone can hear,
in your best french accent:
‘c’est la vie’.

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Out there in the world someone is dreaming;
out there in the world someone is hiding;
out there in the world someone is revealing;
out there in the world someone is reconciling
with the world for the answers they are incapable of finding.

Out there in the world someone is being kind;
out there in the world someone is changing their mind;
out there in the world someone is being bad;
out there in the world someone is crying out to anyone,
because they feel so sad.

Out there in the world someone wants the best;
out there in the world someone is taking a test;
out there in the world someone wants something;
out there in the world someone is captivated
at the same time they themselves are being captivating.

Out there in the world someone is being born;
out there in the world someone is taking their last breath;
out there in the world someone’s heart is being torn;
out there in the world someone is facing death.

Out there in the world someone is having a life-changing idea;
out there in the world someone is making plans;
out there in the world someone is holding back a flood of tears;
out there in the world someone is getting married,
kissing the one they love the most in the world, and holding hands.

Out there in the world someone is thinking about you;
out there in the world someone is sending a gift;
out there in the world someone is making their debut;
out there in the world someone is finding solid ground
after years of being adrift.

Out there in the world someone is at the start;
out there in the world someone is at the end;
out there in the world someone is hearing the first beat of their baby’s heart;
out there in the world someone is making a new and life-long friend.

Out there in the world someone is obsessing;
out there in the world someone is impressing;
out there in the world someone is crying;
out there in the world someone is laughing;
out there in the world someone wants to be seen, someone wants to be heard;
out there in the world something incredible is always happening somewhere
to someone in the world.

You always think things will last forever.
You always think people are always going to be there,
in the last place that you saw them,
and that life will always draw you back together.

My friend has just died, and I have just found out.
In all honesty, I am in shock.
I want to say the right thing
to describe what I am thinking right now,
but the right words just wont come out.

I have lost members of my family over the years;
I have lost friends that I have met and made
who I knew since I was a kid;
but I have never been there to say goodbye,
I have never been with someone by their side
as I lose them forever from my life, as they lose their life,
as I look-on and can do nothing but wipe-away my own tears.

As I sit alone now, I am trying to remember the last time
that I saw and spoke to my friend-
it seems like a lifetime ago in my mind-
I just can’t remember when it was,
and it is a crime of my memory that I cannot defend.

We take things for granted. I take things for granted, sometimes-
I don’t mean to, but sometimes I also take people for granted as well.
I talk to someone one day, I know that I wont see them for a few days,
but I always anticipate that I will see them again soon
the same as they always are:
laughing and joking, quintessentially themselves in every way,
and seemingly fine and well.

I lost a friend today.
A mother and a sister lost their son.
I don’t know what to say.
My friend wasn’t everybody’s friend,
but he was my friend,
and, in some ways, to him I think I was his only one.

I want so badly to find the words to describe my friend.
I want so much to put thought into what I say about him in what I write,
but saying goodbye now, not remembering the last moment that I saw my friend,
just doesn’t feel right.

The hardest thing to conceive is the end.
The most precious thing in existence, life-
the most important gift that we all take for granted-
the finite fortune that we are all born with
that we can’t take with us when we die,
that we should all not let fall through our fingers so easily,
that we should all be careful to not over-spend.

I am sorry that I never got the chance to see you one last time,
and to shake your hand.
You were genuinely someone who everyone knew how they stood with you.
And I can tell you now that you definitely left your mark on this world,
and on everyone you knew.
No one will ever forget you.

This is the way that we part-ways.

I wish I could have said this face to face, but…
goodbye, my friend.

There is nothing more breath-taking than a sunrise,
there is nothing more welcoming than a new day,
there is nothing more humbling and hopeful
than looking into a new-born baby’s eyes,
there is nothing more magical to behold
than the sight of the stars of the Milky Way.

I have seen people rise and fall, like day and night-
some who feel as if everything in their life is going wrong,
and some who say that life could not be better
because everything is going their way.

Life is endless. Life is varied.
Life is more than anyone could express.
Life is the acceptance that anything and everything is possible,
somewhere at some time.
Life is the struggle and the growth towards the strongest light
that touches every branch and energizes every seed.

In my life-time I have witnessed, observed, and been fascinated by,
the great leaps that humanity has taken,
the mysteries that have been revealed,
the beauty and the epic story of our universe,
and I share the passion of so many others
to continue to delve and learn more;
but what compels me and satifies me the most
is the thought that even in the life-time of everyone who will ever live
on Earth, or around a distant star,
we may believe that we know what makes the universe tick,
but we will never know what began life’s eternal clock,
nor the instigator that gave rise to all.

We find our own way in life, guided along the way by signs,
lights, and people, who will ultimately inform who will be
at the moment that we take our last breath,
as our last tears fall down our cheeks
like the last drop of rain;
and when the sun sets on us for the last time,
we shall return to life and begin again.

As red poppy petals fall through the air
against a perfect bright-blue sky;
life-long soldiers watch with tears in their eyes,
children look up in wonder-
the smiling faces of boys and girls are of pure joy,
while the haunted faces of the battle-scarred
can only look-on as they hear the sound of distant thunder.

A storm begins. The raindrops that fall are slow in their descent,
and when they hit the ground they are almost unnoticeable;
then, within seconds, the droplets multiply,
the clouds darken- turning day into night-
and the wind wails like a weeping angel.
The rain is like a curtain,
a screen showing the power of an untamable nature-
the spectacle is so incredible that people in offices at work,
and people looking out of a window at home,
have to open a door or a window,
because to them this is a ground-breaking, amazing,
summer show of a feature.
Lightning creates patterns of light and sound
against black clouds the colour of outer-space-
that make you feel like you are under the influence
and the control of something that can stop you in your tracks
and make your heart race.

Two different skies, not that far apart.
One sky, two different people from two different worlds,
but who are of the same world, and who have the same heart.

We live on a shared world,
we all live a shared life,
we share a history with one-another
even though we may never meet face-to-face,
and we all share the knowledge, the feeliing,
and the gift of being alive.

No matter how young or old you are,
no matter if you have been blessed your entire life with everything,
or whether you have lost your sight-
the thing within you that makes you who you are never goes away,
and can be felt in someones voice,
or seen in the twinkle in someones eyes,
if you listen for, and if you look for, the light.

I can still remember the first time that I was stung by a bee,
I can still feel the pain that started at my left arm
that then spread throughout my entire body;
I can still taste the tears that welled up in my eyes,
rolled down my cheeks, and found there way into my mouth;
I can still see what it was that put a smile on my face afterwards,
and what soon returned me to full-health.

It is fair to say that I had a lot of crushes while growing up-
“love” was a word that I heard all the time,
but it wasn’t until I saw a girl that I cared about kissing my best friend
that I felt and I saw what love was close-up.
It was a strange, painful, and an unfamiliar, feeling at the time-
I can still see them both, even after all these years,
in each others embrace, as I stood staring at them
as if they were in that moment something divine.
Unfortunately, after I saw them,
my mind became flooded with feelings of hurt, jealousy, and betrayal-
I thought that I was going to cry,
because my emotions were over-full.
To this day, I still say that the moment I first felt my heart break
hurt more than any bee sting, ever-
it is a pain that changes you from head to toe,
and I would wish it on no one, never.

It wasn’t until years later that I concluded that
that first heart-shattering moment was the tell-tale sign
that I had fallen in love;
it wasn’t until I had fallen over and over, again and again,
into the beautiful ocean of wonder
that were the eyes of someone who I cared the world for
that I understood that being in love was what fitted me like a glove.

I love to love, I love what love does to me,
I love who I am when I am in love,
and I love that the person that I love never stops inspiring me.
I still get intoxicated when a certain person talks to me,
or enters the same room-
it is everything about them: their voice, their face, their smile,
their eyes, that intoxicates me- more than any spirit, or perfume.

People say that love is blind.
They say that love can make you crazy, mad,
that there isn’t a manual for perfection,
and that love never goes to plan-
and I would have to agree;
but love, to me, is the best thing in the world,
and if you have to be mad to feel it,
then call me a mad man.

All day, all night,
every day, every night,
I have relived in my heart and mind the last moment we touched-
the last time that we would see and touch one another-
the moment that every fiber of my being cried out in agony,
as tears started to form in my eyes,
and my heart felt as if it had been crushed.
The last second that we both held each-others gaze
felt so perfect, beautiful, natural-
it ended in an instant, but it seemed to last for days.

I never sought to find love from afar,
but over the years that seems to have become a recurring theme-
I have fell in love with beauty
that had crossed continents, oceans, and miles, so that I may know them,
and their beautiful face may follow me into my dreams.

This love felt different, somehow-
this love didn’t start out as love at first sight-
in the beginning we liked each other, smiled with one-another,
laughed at each-others jokes, but only as friends;
that was until we touched for the first time,
and I was struck by a truth that hit me faster than the speed of light.

We shared so much together- from the most brief and subtle of talks,
to the most amazing, heart-felt, enticing, beautiful, insights-
every time we spoke I felt as if we were conversing among the clouds,
and reaching out to each-other above the Earth
at new and energizing heights.

I will miss her so much.

When it did come time for us to say goodbye,
to look at each-other for the last time,
and for us to smile our last smiles to one-another,
it felt like my last day, my last second on Earth-
in my minds voice I told her that I loved her,
and that I would forever treasure the time that we spent together
and remember those moments fondly as the gifts that they are worth.

Today it finally hit me that I was never going to see her again,
and that the distance between us was going to be too much;
however, even now, she is still with me-
I can see her face, I can hear her voice,
I can feel her beautiful and delicate touch.

I miss you

Cool are the raindrops that fall upon my skin,
dark are the clouds in the sky above me;
welcome is the touch of purity on my lips,
cleansing are the tears of the sky
that I can feel, but which I can barely see.
I am standing in my garden wearing only my Nike’s,
my jeans, and my favourite black T-shirt;
I am standing still with a smile on my face
completely saturated to the bone and feeling an intense sense of hurt.
Where this feeling has come from I cannot at first discern;
however, I was compelled to step out into this rainstorm for a reason,
and at the time I remember thinking that I was going to combust and burn
if I did not walk out into the open air
and allow the elements to soothe my pain,
and that is why I chose to free myself of logical reason
and shower in the effervesce of the rain.
People may think me mad, but I am in my element-
I have always felt at home in a downpour
and this one feels like an exceptionally epic event.
A mist of energy and water-vapour engulf and immerse me,
and as I close my eyes, stretch out my arms,
and hold my face up high to the sky,
I can perceive a weight and a cloud the size of planet Earth
evaporate from my body and be set free.
And as the rain continues to pour,
I feel like I have been reborn, renewed, and transmogrified-
I open my eyes, staring up as the raindrops hitting my irises,
I wipe the tears from my face, and yet again I smile with realization
as I throw open my arms wide.
The rain abates and finally stops,
leaving me soaking wet, freezing,
but feeling more alive and more excited than my first day of school-
the arousing smell of petrichor is in the air and all-around,
and I feel content, complete, and cool.

Rain drops on a window pane, a teardrop on a face-
the landmarks of our memory that we can never erase.
Waves of emotion; tears of the Earth-
like waves crashing on a beach; like the feeling of rebirth.
When we cry is there more to be found than at first appears?
When we cry is there a melody to be heard to rival the music of the spheres?
Do tears still remain long after being first shed?
Does the music of our tears still continue to play in our head?
Just as our tears, like raindrops, fall silently until they make contact,
our tears, like the stars of the night sky, are only interpreted in the abstract.
The tears of a memory- both of joy, and of pain-
are more akin to the galaxies of the universe than I could possibly explain:
when a star reaches the end of its life it explodes into a new state of being-
just as when an emotion reaches its peak it can be seen and felt fleeing.
When an emotion becomes too deafening for us to not let it be heard, and cry out,
our tears is the melody that we play, and the music that we could never live without.

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