It's Different

It’s different when they die.

Because you didn’t see the water that my dad’s eyes shed,

As he threw the phone to the floor; told his brother’s life was hanging from a thread.

My mom tried to comfort, she tried to console, but she didn’t know it was just his turn to go.

Man it’s different when they die.

Maybe she didn’t take that sip,

Maybe she didn’t take that hit,

But one thing is for sure; my uncle did take a hit.

A hit from her car as she spun him around.

She may call it an accident,

But she still laid him in the ground.

It’s different when they die.

So when it came to it, she stood up in court.

But couldn’t even look in the eyes of the four daughters he left behind,

As she tried to apologize for killing their dad, their love, their whole life.

But how can you say you’re sorry, for taking away someone’s dad, someone’s brother, someone’s uncle, someone’s friend, someone’s husband, someone’s son, someone’s everything.

Man it’s so different when they die.

So a funeral was held, we traveled for memorials and saw dedications.

But none of that can stitch the wound.

The wound that will never stop bleeding from the aching hearts of his loved ones,

As they lose sleep thinking, about the times they spent with that great man.

Who now watches from above.

And though he isn’t here,

We all still feel his love.