Dear Uncle Chris,

It’s been over a year now, but I guess I’m still confused.
As May 7th rolls around, all my thoughts go out to you.

I don’t know if you were high that day, or what was running through your mind.
Maybe the whiskey was playing games again, like it’s done a million times.

He was innocent that day, he had done nothing wrong.
But you couldn’t let go of your grudge against Aunt Heidi, you’d been holding for so long.

That seven year old boy will never fall in love,
He’ll never score a touchdown or swing a golfer’s club.

He won’t have his first kiss or ask a girl a prom,
He’ll never get to study Spanish or visit Vietnam.

He won’t get his license or fill to much gas in his truck’s tank,
He’ll never get to graduate or plan the senior prank.

He won’t receive a letter from his favorite college university,
He’ll never wear the cap and gown as he earns his doctorate degree.

He won’t walk down the aisle, hand in hand with the girl of his dreams,
He won’t teach his son how to skip rocks on Grandma’s backyard stream.

He won’t hold his new born daughter in his arms as she silently sleeps,
He’ll never get the adrenaline of spending an entire paycheck on the new model of a Jeep.

You took his life and ended it before it even began
You took him out of school that Friday, you got in the car and ran.

He’s gone now and we miss him more and more each day,
And all I really want to know is how could have it in your heart to take that little boy’s life away?

I can’t sign this letter I love you, because it really isn’t true
So I guess I’ll sign sincerely as I write from me to you.