My Friend,
You asked me to compose you a legacy.
One that expressed your desires about him.
But for the longest time I've been in misguided hands.
You lead me to believe that living with your family was the equivalent to living with the Devil.
You've expressed the the fear of them with dying phone calls, that lead you into my heaven.
You then decided to explain your dreadful eternity.
The stories started to become worse and started to put you in the victims footsteps each time.
You flat out told me you lied about wanting to reside with me.
How can I always take you for the victim, if I'm not sure I can trust the lies you choke up?
