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Thursday, 27 November 2014


A young man dies and we gather to grieve,
Attempt an answer to the question why,
Summon the composure to say goodbye,
Confused and confounded he had to leave.
Up to the moment, that second of fate,
Good years past but the best ahead,
Of the end not a hint, a trace, a shred,
That impatient cruelty would not wait.
If fortune smiles we grow up and we learn,
We gain wisdom, wit and experience,
Have a chance of success's radiance,
Have hope we survive each twist and turn.
We assemble to mourn a young man's death,
To remember him - first cry to last breath.

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