A Letter To My Brother.

One thousand seven hundred and twenty eight.

The hours I have sat here in our empty room. The hours you have spent under the watch of the sun and the moon.

The room where we watched our first movie . The room where we argued about which footballer was the coolest.

The room where we fought and bickered. The room where our bond grew stronger as our trust deepened.

This room is now empty. This room has gone cold since the day that you left me.

Seventy two.

The days since we had our last talk. The days since you ellaborated those last thoughts.

We talked about which car was the fastest and whose team was going to finish the season in the last place.

We talked about our hopes and dreams and how our shortcomings meant more in the long run of things.

We talked. We talked a lot. And I still want to talk..that's why I wrote you this poem.

Twenty Three.

The years you walked the earth. The years you led the way as I followed your path.

The years I took your letters home after you lost your shirt and vest or when you wanted a new geometrical set

The years when we would come back for the mid-term break and we'd down like four loaves of bread.

The years we'd come home for Christmas and you'd cook eggs because Mama said yours are delicious.

You.

You had a dream. You wanted your house to be the highest point at home but now you're at the furthest place I know.

You had this grin when you wanted to laugh at my joke but didn't want to give me the confidence to have another go.

You had the strongest will. You overcame so much as we grew but how this happened is something no one ever knew.

You are my brother. You are my friend. Until we meet next time..I'd love to catch up then.