Memories Of You Poem by Marien Jacobs

(Dedicated to Ean, who died at age 19 in 2001)

Out of a paper
Blue eyes stare at me.
Not a time to see you again,
Thus I write down memories of thee.

I know you as a quiet child,
Full of laughter and mild.
You weren't anymore a childhood fan,
But was slowly changing into a man.

And then one Sunday afternoon
It was yóúr time to go – too soon
Without getting a chance for goodbye,
You were gone, your time did fly.

Why? Is a question tumbling through my mind.
Why at this time of your life death you have to find?
At nineteen year's of age your base?
Two months and two days?

And whenever I think of you
I still hear your voice too,
And your laughter I can hear,
Even see you smile throughout my tears.

And I knew that I have loved you as a friend,
And my memory of you will never end.
None of the moment that we all shared with you
When you were still alive, your eyes open and blue.

With tears running down my face,
I hate the reality that you're gone without a trace,
That your soul was claimed by the angel of death,
The moment you died, and breathe your last breath.

'Cause in a moment that only you knew about,
On a bicycle you came to face the death without doubt.
And you find yourself in front of that bus,
Already too late to escape that crush.

Within seconds your brain and chest was smashed
With that pulverized bash
And you were gone, not seen again,
And we left with questions; full of pain.

My friend, although we weren't
As close as we could have been,
I still love you
And miss you with all my heart.

And to say goodbye to you my friend
At this dark part in life’s bend,
The words just sound insane,
Thus I rather say: till we meet again.

(2001)