What You Could Be
I look at him, same age as you,
when death snatched you out of the blue.
He’s just 15, but teachers say,
that he will make it big one day.
I touch your photo, hold it too,
each time I pass, your place, your room.
It looks just like it did that day
when Hell took you and life away.
I see him grow, a brilliant smile,
when he creates, he dreams, compiles.
The things I wish that you could see.
I wonder, Babe, what you could be?
It’s just so wrong that you aren’t here.
I see your face, your eyes, your fear.
Still, no one knows, but you and me,
The truth about what you could be.
I pray the day will not be long,
When something might take up the wrong.
And somehow just, please let me see.
The beauty of what you could be.