When best friends die,
your world goes dark and gloom.
Your light is blissed at friendships fall,
you hear the wolves, hear their call.
You hope, you pray you wish alike,
that it was to heaven she was sent.
That she got what she searched for,
gotten all her answers, peace and more.

The last day was hot and humid,
a summers day so clear.
Now when you look back,
into a friendship you held so very dear.
You see the little things you missed,
all the things you did not do,
like helping when her brother had a nasty winter flue.
Like never ever holding her hand,
when things went wrong with her band.
You start to feel sorry and angry at yourself,
that you had a sexy boyfriend
while she sat on the shelf.
That you yelled and screamed and made her guilty,
for it was really your fault.


You place the blame on all the others,
you scold and yell at her brothers.
You tell them that they made her die,
and then with tears ask them why?
They hold you, hug you, wipe your tears.
Tells you stories that subsides your fears.

The funeral is so unreal,
you sit there very pale.
They put her in a chest so big,
say words as if they help, they dig.
Then down she goes with box and all,
you watch as they let a friendship fall.
a Friendship that you once held close,
you cry you scream, you overdose.

In the end your still alone,
she never does come back.
You don't eat, your skin and bone,
and your smoking crack.
Then you wonder if it was you,
if people would have noticed,
if you were the missing one,
would they have put up a protest?
Would they have fought to get you back,
dive into your grave?
Trying in vain to find a thing to save.
Or would their lives have just gone on,
you forgotten fast.
Would you merrily be a memory of your loved ones past?


 
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