Did you wander the fields the way I did?
Tell the stories that I told?
Ask the questions I never thought to ask?
Were you scared of the dark the way I am?
Did you also dream of a life you could live for yourself?
Did you fight those last few days?
Did you know if your predicament?
Were you as angry at the world as I still am?
Were your questions ever answered?
Did you accomplish anything at all?
Were you able to make the decisions you wanted?
Do you still look over us today?

Chiseled slightly, drained from colour.
Bones now just imitations of life, these remains left forgotten.
Realisation that it can all end so easily, your existence left insignificant.
Known more for it's death than it's eight years of life.
Sudden change changes everything, comes unannounced, death forces you to comply, to conform.
To make the illusion of your short lived life worth something.
Pieced together in a haphazard puzzle, never explained.
It's true story left unknown.