Eight years gone, it's almost Christmas. 

Soon the lights and smells of season will be upon us. 

It's been so long since I have been with you. 

So long since I last saw your face or touched you. 

The pain and the anguish of my loss consumes me still. 

Others don't understand it.. they never will. 

I lay alone at night and cry,

Asking God all the reasons why. 

So many bad people get to walk the street. 

Why was it you God wanted to meet?