I Didn’t Make It Home That Night
I didn’t make it home that night, Mama.
I bet you are wondering why.
I would have changed it if I had the choice.
I would not have chosen to die.
It happened like they said.
I saw a flash of white.
I swear I was being responsible,
But then I saw a bright light.
I wish someone would have taught him
The same way you taught me.
I heard the medics say he was on his phone
Before I could no longer see.
I’m sorry I’m not here to tell you in person
I really wish that I could be.
But I need you to help me
And carry on my legacy.
Teach him like you taught me.
And make sure to show the rest
That when they are operating a “moving weapon”
It is imperative that their focus is at its best
One glance at a phone
And it was all over
If he could not have waited
He should have known to pullover
One second of recklessness
Ended all the seconds of my life
There is so many things he could have done
Which would’ve prevented the afterlife
Airplane mode could have helped
Or putting down the phone
Or even having it locked away
So the bright screen would’ve never shone
I’m sorry I will never see you again
But I promise it will be alright.
Please tell them all, Mama,
Because I didn’t make it home that night.