Bamboo tapping at my bedroom window.
Its message aided by the wind.
We're cold out here it whispers.
I'm cold in here I grinned.
We watch you every night resting,
We watch over you as you sleep.
We hear you every night talking,
Crying to the child you can't keep.
We see the pain that you're living.
We understand the decision you make.
We feel the life that you're leaving,
And we honour the course that you take.
Not all life is meant for surviving.
Not all lives are all they could be.
We see you continually striving,
To make better the world that you see.
Death is part of the cycle.
Death can be our call to arms.
The letting go is often the hard part,
Because holding on offers some charms.
But live the way that you have been.
We will be here when you get back.
Make sure that this death is for something.
And keep going: your life is on track.
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