Three o’clock in the morning,
woke by the ringing telephone.
Hello, no there’s no one else at home,
I was sleeping and I’m all alone.
Yes, I’m sitting . . . Oh my God no . . . yes I’ll be all-right.
No, please don’t come over, I think I’d rather think it over.
Why does bad news always come too late? Good bye.
Jessie, I don’t remember meeting you,
you were one and I barely two.
Growing up with Hot Wheel cars
and highways in the dirt.
Dumping bikes or dumping girls, acting like it didn’t hurt.
Sleeping over, sleeping out, trying to count the stars.
High School, first date, first car, first time in a bar.
You were always there,
even when no one else could care.
Weren’t you out with me last night?
Jessie, what gave you the right?
Was there something I didn’t say or something I didn’t see?
Son of my mother’s brother, my best friend, a part of me
Life’s not easy, it changes, why did it have to end you this way?
© 1996, 2017 Tim D. Coulter Sr.