A new ode to death

Younger than most,

Not a lovely thing to do,

In fact its down right Chokeing,

To loose someone like you.

I've told them all I didn't know you,

Or remember who you are,

But everyday I would see you,

Trying to get to know who you are.

I always said tomarrow I'd talk to you,

Then tomarrow came and departed.

When I herd that the sun for you had set,

We all felt so dehearted.

To see the pain in his eyes,

He can't hide it,

Made me cry.

I told him I barely remembered,

So that nobody would find,

That once you had decended,

It was me,

Aswell,

Who had died.