steved

My old friend Sergio passed away two days ago. A fuckin' cancer. He died at 29, leaving us like trees with no leaves. It's hot in this days in Milan, and today the funeral was frustrating. Sergio's father told me that he was angry with himself. Angry 'cos he tried to do everything possible to save his son, but at a point he desired to see him pass away as soon as possible. Just to set him free from sorrow and pain. I feel so strange now, like I've no weight, no colour, no books, no poems, no music, no nothing. It's a moment. It's a shame. You can't wipe out your sorrow like wash a dish, and you can't do anything 'bout it. Life's hard and then you die, but I like to think that I'm still alive and I want to leave a message somewhere. There is a fuckin' light that never goes out...
please don't drop me home.

Goodbye Sergio