When I don't think about you, I still hear you're voice knowing that tomorrow is your day. Tomorrow is the day that you passed away that day, that was the week after I talked to you for the last time. Tomorrow is the day that I praise you in the storm, I praise you for doing what you did to live your life. I praise you for making the most of you're last moments. You left too early and you were too young to die, but death doesn't discriminate against age, so it takes anyone at any age in time.
So, I say sometimes I wish it was me in you're place and not you, although one day we will meet again in the after life. When I first heard the news you left, I couldn't stop crying at all, and although I had to hide my emotions. I couldn't stop crying at all, as tears ran down my cheeks turning me red, I kept thinking why? why now? Why couldn't you just wait longer, and left live a little bit more. Time has no limit, nor a set date when you will leave the world. Tomorrow is you're day not to be remembered as the day you passed, but to be remembered as the day you lived.
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