something about that town
all the kids dropped like flies
year after year
here
you don't come across beautiful people
with
whole hearts
genuine smile
because
scars on the road where john flipped his bike
mark the one mile
from the house where tragedy struck
his kids on the head, a little too hard one night
and we don't swim in august anymore,
memorial sign hanging
almost like all of our heads that sunday a few days after
coming ‘round the corner just like john,
a little too fast
heartbreak is due
shaking hands, we clamored amongst the kids we grew up with
weeks after
only to be tipping the bottle back
a little too far
pushing the gas petal down
a little too hard
after five years,
falling falling falling
the kids stopped caring if God was knocking at the door
because opening that mortal door between the great beyond and earth is a
handshake
and
a kiss on the cheek
from your best friend
whispering welcome home