The Day you Died I felt
It's not that I didn't care. No, I did.
But I felt an abyss. Emptiness. A black hole.
No sensation. You dead, I alive
But both, in destiny, tied.
My grandfather? Sort of.
You married my grandmother. You were her husband.
I never had a grandfather. Then you came along;
She moved away to live with you - I visited Chicago, that big city - to see you two
But then I came back.
That Day, I got a phone call.
She sniffled and cried and said, "Grampa Don died."
But I felt nothing. Because I never had a grandfather before, and
once again - it's as if I never had a grandfather to begin with.