You bit the dust.

It makes you sound like a grimy cowboy,

Strong and steely.

You kicked the bucket.

It transforms you into a dirty little kid,

Playful and innocent.

You gave up the ghost.

It turns you into a weary do-gooder.

Faint and noble.

You weren’t any of those:

Your cowboy days were over as soon as they begun.

Never.

Ha.

I don’t think the wet squeals of Kidland were ever yours.

It just doesn’t go.

LOL. But I cried. Then laughed. Then wept.

And, no. You were always weary, always teary, always bleary. But never noble.

So. No.

Then what’s the right word?

Nothing sandy, or squealy, or sappy.

Something fragile, delicate, shaking.

Something sweet and soothing and sticky.

Covered in smooth china.

Seemingly flawless.

Passed Away.

Too cliché.

I might never find the best words.

dont give up hope

it will come soon

r

i

p