Uncle's tribute to little Alistair

Here is a transcript of the poem written in memory to the shot toddler Alistair Grimason by his uncle Mark.

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It has been a great journey for both of us, lived for a life.

You are my star, sparkly and bright.

Whenever I close my eyes, it's your eyes, it's your small hands, endlessly lovely your sound, still in my mind.

I can hear the piano you were going to play.

You loved everything, we loved you more than anything.

Raise your head and look at the sky.

Hold my hand and spot the brightest star.

No questions, no answers, no pain.

Everything hidden in that star, silence of words.

Memories coming to me, no need to remember, still fresh, still alive, will be forever with me.

Silence for words, for thoughts, moments of my life.

How can I tell myself he is not alive?

One moment before, one minute after.

Nothing made a difference to me.

All clouds above. If you touch them, they will cry, feeling your silence day by day. No word to describe.

Every moment I am alive, you will be in my mind.

You subtitled the love for us, in our tears, time by time.

You were the brightest star, full of life.

Now time, for no reason, quiet, very quiet. Cannot hear anything.

This time, God raising his hands for all of us, for my little star.

Keeping you in his angel heaven.

You were my little star, you are my little star.