Still Standing Through Loss

Fourteen years since mama left. Eight since my brother took his last breath.

Four since pop. And now I'm here still standing. But it's heavy, real heavy.

Yeah. Yeah, I lost my queen when I was just a

teen. Fourteen years still feel like a dream. Mama gone,

but her voice still rings in the quiet of the night when I'm facing

these things. Then my brother, my twin flame, my right hand. Eight years gone,

still don't understand. We were tighter than the laces on my old Jays

and now I walk alone through these cold days. Pops dipped four years,