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.