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  Dec 2014 Thunderstorm
NYC
There's something I want to write to you. But the problem is I do not write as beautiful as you.
There's something I want to write. Something that is bursting with emotions but I can't.
I can't because words are mere words. Not enough, never enough! But I am writing this to you.
I love you. I love your heart. I love every inch of you. And even though you don't see this but I love you.
I felt it, I feel it.
this pain, this pain
and this rain of torture.
But I am forever thankful for your soul.
A soul that will live forever
because you know,
LEGENDS NEVER DIE.
For Andy.
I never really got to know him. We never talked. But I know something about his heart. A heart full of love and words.
And it was a privilege knowing.
Farewell, friend. <3
I'm sorry. I'm so incredibly sorry that I'm at a loss for words. I do know this. Bodies come and go. Physical living heart beats come and go. Voices and hands to type come and go. The beauty of life is that the soul transcends the physical. Bodies are vehicles for the soul. Sometimes people lose their driving license. Maybe that just means they need to carpool. Love is proven true when you feel the burn of its absence. Please remember that just because there is no voice to hear, or body to hold, or ears to listen; does not mean a person has left. Souls are silent, but they will not leave those who love them.
Anyone who needs to talk or share, can come to me. I can't promise instant response, but I will respond eventually.
  Dec 2014 Thunderstorm
Tide Islands
Such a tragedy
to be robbed of one's youth
like a plant that has been uprooted
before it blooms.

But there must come a day,
be it soon or late, when our bodies shall
kiss the earth as she welcomes us home
with open arms.

We will all
bloom again, but in a different way,
and our petals shall decorate the graves
of those who return.

It is alright to cry,
because our tears shall water
the fields of the ones we have loved,
for when we die,

we are flowers.
I did not know Andy. We never spoke, since I recently joined, but I know all too well the pain of having lost someone too soon.
All I can hope is that everyone who has ever loved him stays safe in this time of grief, and can soon find the comfort and healing they need. I can see he was loved very much. You are all in my thoughts.
This poem is for him and for the rest of you.
I'm sorry it is not very good, since you all deserve so much more, but I can not offer anything except my words. I feel as though anything I say will be the wrong thing to say, but I mean well.

It is my belief that when we die, our remains will eventually become flowers. When I think about this, it personally helps me cope with death. Perhaps it will help someone else through their grief.

With love,
J.E. DuPont
30.12.14

"From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity."
-Edvard Munch
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