Robin,
today you've
passed away.

Found under a bridge :
on earth you wouldn't stay.
Lost for six days,
on the seventh
found,
but dead you where
when they found you
facing down.
Not much friends
people say,
alone like a ghost .
At lunch, his table always
stayed empty,
never to be
dedicated a
toast.
His face is of
childhood beauty :
the one that stings
and strikes.
Now that he returned
from his one-way journey,
kids, inventors of nicknames,
suddenly start to
worry.
Who were you?
Just the dude that looked ugly.
Now where lie you ?
In a ditch all full of mud,
****** .
You are the Jesus with no cross :
the unforgettable Robin.
The king with no name,
the lion without a mane.
Maybe you were different :
as nice as people
were mean.
Maybe you just needed
protection,
from all the rejection
the silent bites, and all the unseen
strikes to your rights,
the unfair fights.
Your life
17 dead candles,
blown away with all the rest
by you final daring, descisive,
evading,
geste.

Although you aren't here
and although this isn't all clear
I wish you the best of luck
O Robin from wherever
please hear.