It seems like just the other day
Somebody died with my name
Here meaning someone with my name died
But it’d come as no surprise
From a long line of people
Who couldn’t find their limits
The youngest son of a preacher
Made one too many visits
To the brink
Before one went the other way
And he couldn’t slip that grip—not this time
As the color left his lips
We planned a long line of headlights
But back to that Sunday
Whereupon my name was on
A list I didn’t think I’d earned just yet
So fold up the paper
As best I am able laid on the table by the place you daily set
As if the ritual all on its own
Could hold some power over life and death
And in that moment
It became apparent
That If a parent losing a child is the one thing we aren’t wired
To recover from
What I know is this:
I need to live
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