The Way of Life

In the cold month of snow, ice and mirth,
Before the Merry Christmas Day,
A cute little boy was given birth,
Cuddled in his mother’s arms he lay.

 

He was bestowed upon this world,
To parents ever so warm,
For his sister a new soft toy,
With little legs and tiny arms.

 

As sands of time passed,
He began his steady stride,
Towards the new untrodden path,
With his father always beside.

 

With every passing day,
He grew by age and mind,
He sought for dreams and ways,
So his goals he would one day find.

 

He was cute, bright and funny,
He had his secret dreams,
But little did he know that destiny,
Had gruesome plans for him.

 

The sun did rise, the buds did bloom,
That day the birds did fly,
But the ill-fated moment upon him doomed,
When he bid his final goodbye.

 

Though today he is far away,
His presence can still be felt,
As starry nights melt into days,
And bright days into nights melt.

 

Is this true or some fairytale,
You may very well wonder,
But the memories still make me pale,
‘Coz he was my own little brother.

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