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Friday, March 11, 2005



Dear son, I cannot speak with you anymore, and yet I have so much to say to you, too much for time and will to net.

Life goes with just this last goodbye. I have so much to say to you, far more than I can now convey.
Life goes with just this last goodbye to serve as what I want to say. Far more than I can now convey, I love you with a love that yearns to serve as what I want to say, ablaze with sadness that bleeds and burns.
Dear son, I cannot speak with you anymore, and yet . . .



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