Remembering Thomas Dorey
Thomas my love for you is something no sequence of letters could ever summate,
The passion, joy and care that you have imparted us with is something we can only propagate,
And your funny, and on occasion wise, words will with time become old adages
As I remember that, more than my brother, you are my best friend, and the ultimate package.
Although I am sure you know, I wish I had made it more apparent that I think the world of you
And that every day, even before your departure, I would ask myself: “what would Tom do”
An answer which often left me with smirk on my face as I imagined your confusion
Facing a situation which when recounting to you could have had much worse conclusions
I aspire to be even remotely like you Thomas in the way you spread joy
Notice how when one retails a story of yours, no bad words are ever employed
With every joke you cracked, and every step you made, you left behind a trail of smiles
Engulfing those around you with your laugh, touching many more lives than those on these isles
I still giggle at our silly little inside jokes that rendered us diabolically untamed
Or when you were unenthused by my jokes and you let out a laugh that was so strained
And I will always remember the times you crawled into my room after a night out
Recounting every conversation and stare you got providing a very detailed account
I remember times where you would come back rather intoxicated and midway through our debrief, you would go mute,
Your choice of location and timing unveiled a plan that was rather astute,
Asleep on my bed, following the customary waiting period, I would tuck you in under the cover
And rush down the corridor to regain heat by gliding under your duvet, I love you my sleepy brother
Your 2AM texts that just about read the words “I miss you C-Dog” are engraved in my mind
I love that even out at a rave, you send a message to your sister, you really are one of a kind.
Every picture we have together is characterised by the purest form of a smile,
In the background, our running commentary of the funniest jokes one could compile.
A couple of months ago we took on Paris together, laughing at all things so quintessentially French
Hours elapsed as we strolled from the Champs-Elysee to the opera house yet it felt so brief as it does with the best of friends,
Every shop layout, chair, un-eco marketing campaign was criticised,
I loved seeing the city through you industrial product designer student eyes.
Younger me adored living vicariously through your seemingly random yet hilarious tales
And I hope I can fill you with the same adrenaline as you live through me in whatever this next chapter entails,
What to expect from our next adventures together, I am not yet sure
But enjoy your rejuvenation and a hair line that is (touch wood) a bit more secure!
Now when wearing outfits, ill be sure to mismatch the shades and colours to please Thomas
And although it will pain me because I do have a fashion sense, I know he will take notice
And I know he will be laughing, because much like his music taste, his fashion sense had some promise,
Which was often over casted by some rather miscellaneous touches of randomness
I have loved watching you blossom into this ray of sunshine that brightens even the darkest sky
And it’s with a lump in my throat that I understand that I must leave you with a goodbye
But know deep down that it isn’t goodbye, it is a see you later
I hope you realise that in this game of life, you will always remain my favourite player.
Everyone always says “live life with no regrets”
And yet no one did it quite like this brunette
I am so proud of you and of all the things that you achieved
In my eyes, Thomas, you are a deity,
You are intrinsic to my smile, my laugh and my personality
Of all things good and joyful, you are the epitome
From C-Dog to T-Boss, this isn’t the end of the line,
It’s simply an artist changing their ink cartridge as they set off on their next design,
One where we can be portrayed together until the ink dries,
one where our story lines remain forever intertwined.