ending day

 every day I think about you
every day I miss you
I remember the shots that took you
I fucking die inside
, I cry now
as I write this
and i miss you
I remember the day they took you
summer time crisp blunt cold beers shook us
we were getting wild and someone mistook you
for a punk bitch not a solider like you were
I remember the beer in your hand as it left you
I heard the bullet pass my head as it took you
it should have been me
I often think
this is a true story so don't laugh or blink
or ill fucking gut ya
ya hear me
do ya?
I think of that day and I always miss you
picking shrooms painting buildings
naked women
drugs and feelings
all the things young kids dream
but now I'm a man
and I've seen more bloody things
more bloody screams with screaming dreams
I have now and carry with me
I was a kid then and I was weak
thinking back now, I wouldn't think
I would have grabbed the pistol from your grip
and bucked back at them fiends
then ending them slowly
I miss ya homie