Nino Nino, with his grin so sly, A sparkle always in his eye, Each morning, he’d be waiting there, Car keys in hand, wind in his hair. He’d drive me to school, a thrill, a ride, Corners sharp, no rules to abide. “Hold on tight!” he’d wink and say, As the tires squealed through another day. To the beach we’d go, sun on our backs, Stories shared over sandy tracks. His laughter echoed, bold and free, A tide of joy washing over me. But oh, the speed, the daring chase, Rules and limits? Not his space. “Life’s too short to go so slow,” He’d say, foot down, ready to go. Even in the hospital bed he schemed, Freedom glinted, his eyes still beamed. “Book me an Uber,” he’d whisper low, “Let’s break out of here, we’ll hit the road!” Nino, wild and full of flair, A rebel’s heart beyond compare. Fast and free, through sun or strife, You sped through roads—and through my life. Now when the wind brushes by my face, I feel his spirit, his boundless pace. Nino, forever, in heart and sky, The fastest star speeding by.
Enola
