I started writing to you how I feel but became stuck again. I fear the night when the crimson sky appears for the bloodied streams of conscious truth cannot be denied. You’re gone. Time has not made it easier. I’m still angry, just like your Mom and Dad, your family and friends are.

I always do better writing poetry when my emotions are involved.

I fear almost night
Defiant skies of crimson
Bloodied into streams
Of unconscious truth-seeking
justifiable remorse

We love you, Johnny. Always have, always will.

Grandma and Grandpa

October 15, 2005- July 1, 2019