Backside of a bullet (You're gone)

Dedicated to Richard Andrew Church and Elizabeth Anne Rudd Church

Staring into my glass I see
not my reflection but
you. Your eyes staring
back at me, your hair
like blond waterfalls.
You were so beautiful.
And he took you away.

I was not even a day old
My mother, your sister,
She nearly died.
Lying in your grandmother's arms
He took you away from me.

In your mother's arms
now, she who never knew
you. Beautiful child of strife,
you left us on the backside
of a drunken bullet.

You're gone.