Miss you, bro:

 

He is my brother, even though we're not related by blood,

Now I'm swimming through memories of him, flowing back in a flood,

And I'm bewildered how this can be the will of some god above,

I'm so angry he's gone, but humbled that I got his love. 

 

Because, he is my brother... or I guess I should say that he "was",

But talking about him in the past tense, will never make sense. 

 

And when I hear people talking about him like that,

I feel like they've given up and just accepted the fact -

That he's not coming back. 

 

But he lives in in my dreams, and in my own head,

And if it wasn't for other people reminding me, he wouldn't be dead,

So I put my thoughts down on paper, try to make sense in this flow,

And I realize how much I'm not ready to let you go. 

I really miss you, bro.