SO YOU WERE PROBABLY ABOUT EIGHT
WHEN I FIRST MET YOU.
BUT IT WASN'T YOUR FAULT.
NEITHER WAS IT MINE,
SO HOW COULD I BLAME YOU?
RED HAIR AND SHORT,
A LITTLE OVERWEIGHT,
AND WHAT I HATE
TODAY
IS THAT I DON'T REMEMBER
THE COLOR OF YOUR EYES.
I DO RECALL
YOU AND YOUR BROTHER
WERE REALLY HURT,
ACCIDENT OR NOT.
I NEVER WAS TOLD THE TRUTH
ABOUT THAT BIG RUSE.
I WAS OLD ENOUGH
HOW IT FELT TO BE DIFFERENT.
I WAS THE TALLEST OF THEM ALL,
TOO SKINNY
AND, QUITE HONESTY
LOOKED LIKE A CUTE GUY.
DIDN'T LIKE YOUR FATHER.
BUT WHAT HURTS THE MOST
IS THAT I DON'T RECALL
WITNESSING TO YOU,
SOWING THE GROUND,
SPREADING THE FRUIT,
TELLING THE TRUTH.
THE MOST IMPORTANT THING OF ALL.
I CAN'T SAVE YOU,
BUT I COULD HAVE BEEN A LITTLE STRONGER
ABOUT MY BELIEF,
I MIGHT HAVE AN ANSWER
IF I COULD JUST REMEMBER
THE COLOR OF YOUR EYES.
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