The mailbox has been
Full of cards
These last two days

Death and bills
Seem to be the only things
That warrant a letter
In this electronic age

I feel lost and in shock
And full of regret

All there is to do
Is cry and sing sad songs
And write empty poetry

Nothing can change it now

But what if I had made that phone call?
Would you still be here?

What if I told you how much I still cared?
I think it might have made a difference

And the chorus cries
“It’s not your fault
You did all you could”

But still I wonder
Did I really?

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