Rock-a-bye baby, in the treetops...

I remember the time I fell out of a tree when I was 7. I broke my arm and wasn't able to write for a couple months. He was always there to care for me though.

When the wind blows, the cradle will rock...

I remember when I was sad and he pushed me on the swing and told me funny stories to make me feel better.

When the bow breaks, the cradle will fall...

I watched the bullet enter his head from a Savior's gun. It was all over. His life and mine.

Down will come baby, cradle and all...

I watched his body fall to the ground. "No..." I said. I wanted to kill who killed him. I wanted to kill everyone who was friends with the person who killed him. I held his hand and took him home; buried him myself.