It's been six years since the gunshot
And the echo is louder than it was that day.
The tremors plunged us into an abyss
Where emotions are too thick, and we're all drowning.
We can't breathe because we can't stop crying.
We threw ourselves into the waiting arms of denial
And were swallowed whole.
Floating above, detached where reality couldn't find us.
But we could not be saved from our own emotions, or his.
They're all the same now anyway.
Suddenly we were spit out and we laid there shattered on the ground.
His screams of pain could always calm ours, and soothe them away,
But now there's no comfort left.
And like hail, cold reality crashed down hard on our lifeless bodies.
Over time we stitched ourselves back together,
But the pieces don't fit right anymore.
I think there's some missing.
And our scars will never heal.
So many were quick to throw around blame
And it stuck everywhere except where it should have.
We were the ones who pushed him to the edge of the cliff
And stepped on his fingers when he tried to climb back up.
Then he was blamed for the fall.
The cold fingers of this world tore at his flesh,
Ripped off his skin and held it up for all to see.
A fragile soul was left naked and exposed.
Even when he tried to hide,
We could see it through his eyes,
As blue as our ocean of tears we're still drowning in.
That gunshot killed a piece of all of us.
But it was the only way out.
The angel was finally free.
When he arrived here, he was perfect,
A flawless statue of the purest white stone.
But he has been cracked and broken
And now there's nothing left
But our fading memories
And his cold plaster hands
