Your birthday is in September,

When the leaves fade to sunset colors,

and I sing

“Wake Me Up When September Ends.”

 

Each day

I wish you are here.

I still check my phone

when a phantom buzz vibrates

and there’s no sign of you.

All I hear is:

“Nothing Else Matters.”

 

I can’t help

but stand still in a moving world,

and hum your favorite songs

thinking:

Why am I talking to the Moon?

 

One again

I hear an echo in my heart,

and pray that

you found your

“Stairway to Heaven”

and not the

“Highway to Hell”.

 

Because you lived your life.

you were my jukebox hero.

When these songs on repeat,

I cry out that you’re

“So Far Away.”

 

And wish once again

that you were here.