For Carrie Clawson, Feb 19, 1960 – Aug 14, 2004

Carry my friend, I can’t
Carry my love, I can’t
Carrie, I can’t understand
why me? why not you?

Were you angry with me,
for finding The Way?
You could have followed, you know,
but carry you I could not.

We saw you over the years,
you said “God and I are ok”
with a smile, but you were only half right.
We knew, but carry you we could not.

Carry my friend, I can’t
Carry my love, I can’t
Carrie, I can’t understand
why am I alive and not you?

Your child, she learned to hate you –
she told you so while you slept.
And when you failed to wake she knew she loved you,
but carry you, she could not.

I still wear the ring you gave me,
and we all met on your birthday without you.
You should have been there and seen!  Such a crowd!
but Carrie, you know you could not.

Carrie, my friend, I can’t –
Carrie, my love, I can’t – 
Carrie, I can’t understand
why am I alive and not you?
why me, and not you?
why any of us, and not you?