A loss so great could not be mourned with tears.
The true lament is lunacy, engineered throughout the years.
At the tender age of ten, I could not process your transition.
But the thought of never seeing you put me well out of commission.
Now in my adulthood I still don't know if I can manage.
With your passing you took my sanity as collateral damage.
Maybe one day you will show up in a dream,
In all your glory, with a halo shining like a laser beam.
I often feel your presence and sophisticated grace.
You seem to whisper in my ear, "It's staring you right in the face."
What I would do for your rare wisdom and foresight.
I sure would sleep much better through the night.