Death on the Wind

Wind without feeling
And life without meaning
Fit together so perfectly
Wind coming from the west,
In your Sunday Best,
Standing in the street, crying
Cold rain falls,
Standing in the hall
But a tear you are not crying
Eyes dry with fear
Of the one who has long been pining
The sky is parched
In the middle of March
And all the days are gray
Many tears were shed
For the planting of the dead
In the 6-foot chasm of keeping
The memories of old
That were buried in the ground
With the one you smiled at just yesterday
You almost died on the day
Your love pass
And into the ground was buried
You stare at the sky,
Watching birds fly,
Wondering, why did I let my friends drink and drive.
You turn away
And know you will always remember the day
You let your best friend drink and drive