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Flowers left for Michael Cordeiro
To a Dear Angel: Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away into the next room .I am I, and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by my old familiar name, Speak to me in the easy way you always used. Put no difference into your tone; Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed, At the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play,Smile think of me, and pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word, That it always was, Let it be spoken without effort, Without the ghost of a shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute unbroken continuity. What is death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind, Because I am out of sight? I am just waiting for you, For an interval, somewhere near, Just around the corner. All is well. Written by Henry Scott Holland.
- Anonymous
 Added: May. 8, 2012

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