Console

I tell my story –

To all those who see my girl 

Or sometimes, they just see me

The look in my eyes,

The patience of my heart

They know something is different,

Something has changed from yesterday to today 

I tell them my girl stops breathing,

She has a hole somewhere strange –

An artificial nose, they call it.

I smile though,

As I think of the times –

That hole has saved her life, you see

The stares, the grimace,

“I’m so sorry” they say 

And I turn once again,

To console

We are used to this life now –

We don’t need a sorry anymore.

That strange hole? It’s nothing to us –

There are bigger things that cause us pain.

But God has given us our girl,

He has given us that trach too. 

We’ve seen the light behind the cloud 

We’ve already shed our tears

I’m consoling myself, more than you know

But I console my girl even more 

Say you’re sorry – maybe shed a tear or two

But watch us find the light in the cloud

And you’ll find the light too.