Today, I was debating about waking up early or not, when the sms came in.
"Popo passed away this morning."
How much of a mundane day changes with one sentence.
Grieving is an art, everyone cries but no one allows themselves to be immersed in the reality of it all.
It hurts too much,
like a part of us is now missing, the glue that has been holding all of us together.
Popo, you're dearly missed.
