The careless overthinker

when you were born the doctor said how you’d be six foot three

from that day forth i fantasized of all the big you’d be

you’d touch the stars with fingertips all words of wisdom from your lips

she didn’t lie that you’d be three, six feet: just you, your dad and me

that’s when we learnt that you were really, rather, very sick

something even a six three can’t be strong enough to fix

it was so fast so cruel so wrong so soon to say goodbye

to our teeny tiny giant hearted lovely little life

because I do believe that all of you was so much more than me

though I understand that giants need a lot more room to breathe

your fingers touch the stars and I realise my dream came true

then cry for not all dreams happen the way we want them to

I miss you every day // A.S