I admit, I'm still angry at that disease that took you.
It had no right.
You were an angel
Handpicked from God's favorite batallion
One of the rare few who knew and cared
You knew all that I am and still you treated me like one of yours
No judgement
No prejudice
Despite it all.
I miss you, ate.
And your smile
And our lunches
And your little statue of Mary
I hope they have arts and craft's there.
