The Day the Music Died

My brother used to take his guitar

on Saturday mornings and play.

He had long hair 

and acne

and he sang along to songs

I'd never heard.

Bye, bye Miss American Pie

drove my Chevy to the levee

but the levee was dry...

My mom would chime in

and my dad would smile

Sister would listen and laugh

and I never danced on the outside

because on the inside

I flew.

His hair is now cut,

the acne gone

and I think he's put on a few pounds.

He hasn't played his guitar in 18 months,

and now I know every word to American Pie

along with everyone

who grew up in the seventies. 

Sister is waiting,

and my dad is bald.

My mom listens to 

Sirius XM Prime Country.

And I know it's a cliche,

but every time I hear that song

I fly

but more importantly

I dance.

Because I wish I would have danced,

danced to show my appreciation,

danced to show my feelings,

danced to show my love,

because maybe

just maybe

that would make things different now.

I saw Satan laughing with delight

the day the music died.