I don’t care what he did, or didn’t do.
I don’t care if he was an addict, or if he was a saint.
I do know he was too young to die.
And I know he was somebody’s baby,
He was somebody’s brother,
He was somebody’s best friend,
Somebody’s boyfriend,
Somebody’s grandson.
He, in and of himself, was somebody.
He was a human being with breath in his lungs,
He had a brain, he had feelings, emotions, dreams.
He was SOMEBODY.
How can people be so heartless?
How can people say he deserved this?
How would you feel if it were your brother, your baby, your best friend?
A Rambler In Bloom 