Tuesday, the 12th,
In  perfect health,
His long, curly hair cropped short,
A smile worthy of the royal court,
The unawareness of those surrounding them,
Blind to the pain that fills his limbs,

Laughter in the air,
It's not as though they didn't care,
One am, an urgent plea,
The trust in him smaller than a bee,
The boy who cried wolf thought to be present,
So ignored was the request sent,

Wednesday the 13th,
They called the teenth,
14th, Thursday,
From the topic, his brother did not stray,
"The curse of grief delivered him to Death,
In regret, he asked for help in his last breath,"

Mourn they did,
From the guilt, they hid,
Putting on a mask,
Bottling up their feelings was a task,
Alone tears fell,
In their own little hell,

But he was gone,
On them it did don,
There was nothing to be done now,
To him was whispered "Ciao",
Rest in Peace,
May your pain cease,