One out of six, you will always be missed,
And the hole that you left never filled.
My brother, my friend, and yet at the end,
They stole you, and murdered, and killed.
To cause so much pain, for so paltry a gain,
How can anyone think that was right?
We’ll never know, with no camera to show,
And the culprits lost in the night.
Your room is a shrine, but also a tomb,
Preserving your spirit within,
Inviolate, closed, but everyone knows,
You’ll never more step out again.
Never more tease, or argue, or please,
Your sarcastic tongue laid to rest,
Along with your smile, and your eyes full of guile,
And your loving heart…that was the best.
We miss you, John. Wait for us, we’ll catch up soon!