Tell all my mourners
To mourn in red —
Cause there ain't no sense
In my bein' dead.
One died too young.
One died too suddenly.
One seemed to linger on longer than necessary.
One wanted to linger, but lost their grip.
One wanted to die.
One didn't know whether they wanted to live or die, but decided.
One deserved what was coming to them.
One died when I was too young.
One floated away softly, peacefully.
One crashed through the barrier.
One smiled, and held my hand, and sighed, and died.
I carry them all.