That blond boy had in his heart the kind of golden dreams that heaven is built upon.
That blond boy was light and laughter. Being his better self, well, he made it appear so easy. That was his greatest intelligence, his instinct for love.
The boy was so blond. His hair brought memories of golden wheat fields, of those many hued stems that danced in the autumn light, whispering gentle songs into the wind.
His hair was strands of a newborn day, of the sunlight that called for us to open our eyes and greet the dawn. It was as if he was born to ride waves, that golden child, our strong hearted blond boy.
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