A Parent Should Never

Folded your T-shirts

Left your shoes by the door

Your cereal bowl

Still waiting on the counter

Your laugh in the hallway

Keeps echoing around here

But the clock keeps ticking

Like nothing really matters

A parent should never have to bury their child

Those little hands were meant to wave from the window, growing wild

We’re supposed to wrinkle, supposed to say goodbye first

This ain’t the order that the good Lord rehearsed

A parent should never have to bury their child

You still see the freckles on his nose

Even in that Sunday suit

They’re talkin’ ‘bout his job, his friends

You’re thinkin’ ‘bout his baby shoes

They say he was a grown man

Like that’s supposed to make it right

But all you see is training wheels

Wobblin’ down the drive

A parent should never have to bury their child

Doesn’t matter if he’s thirty or he’s barely five

You still hear “Mama” in that deeper voice

You’d trade places if you had a choice

You’re the one who’s meant to close your eyes

Not stand here saying goodbye

A parent should never have to bury their child

They hand you folded photos

Like you ain’t got ‘em memorized

First day of school, that busted tooth

The way he used to roll his eyes

They tell you you’re so brave now

For how you’re standin’ strong

But you’re holdin’ up the ceiling

In a house that feels all wrong

He still needed you

For recipes, for bad days, for the truth

Grown-up shoes, same old heart

Still your baby in the dark

You were supposed to go on ahead

White hair, soft bed, peaceful rest

Not this backwards, broken way

Where love is all that’s left to say