My prevailing thought was
It could’ve been worse,
As our grey Honda Civic
Followed closely behind the hearse.
The tears in my eyes flowed freely
Like the rain raging outside,
While I awaited the knots in my
Empty stomach to subside.
 

I remember meeting you at the end of
Locust Street,
With our loose-leaf paper,
Acting like we were the beats.
I’ll never forget that look in your eye,
When you told me the news and started to cry.
 

All of these memories,
So thick that I have to brush them off my face.
And I can take solace in knowing that your pain
Is gone, and your verse can’t be replaced.