• How many times did I look at you?
    How many times did I think you would be o.k?
    I know now though,
    what the cancer did to you.
    It took life away.

    How many times did my parents say,
    "Grandpa won't be here today,
    to see you and your siblings race?"
    How many times did they say,
    "Grandpa's very sick today?"

    How many times did you watch me hide my tears away?
    How many times were you in pain?
    How many times did you think "why?"
    As many times as I?

    How many times did you wonder,
    what it would be like to die?
    To be in Heaven,
    and watch everybody cry,
    when they found out that you died?

    How many times did you look at my face,
    full of hope, trust, and faith?
    How many times did you see me,
    pretend that everything was fine,
    even though that was a lie?

    When I saw you the one last time,
    on the day before you died,
    why didn't I say it?
    Why?
    Why didn't I give you our goodbye?

    Why didn't I say,
    "I love you," that day?
    I saw you, the day before you died.
    So why?
    why. . . .

    How many times will we be able to look at the sky?
    Look at it and think, when we will die?
    How many times will we see it,
    our bodies old and wrinkled,
    our funeral for our time?

    How many times will we wonder,
    what will happen next?
    Is there God?
    Or is it fraud?
    What will happen next?

    How many times can we look at the sky,
    and wonder why?
    Why did he die?
    Why was he sick?
    Why didn't He take me?