IN MEMORY OF MY UNCLE, TOM O'HALLORAN, JR.

Cold Shock

Cold air
Cold thoughts
Brought out here again
By relative death

It’s cold
The sky mostly gray
And someone so close
Has gone away

Shot in the face
Suddenly a bad taste
Reminds me of pain
By his own gun slain

His three special ones
Will be so glad I’m here
What can I do for them?
Try not to shed a tear

I will talk
Talk to them
Help them
Do whatever I can

It’s a shock
To know he’s gone
But I know I can
Still carry on

But you
Can you make it?
I’ll do whatever I can
And I hold out my hand

Talk if it helps
Take it if it helps
I’m holding out my hand
I see pain
Welling in your eyes
I’m holding out my hand
You come
Walking, running
And grab hold of my hand

Remember
This one thing
Whenever you need me
Come to me
As I hold out my hand