"The Weeping Sun" 
by Michael R. Stratton 
August 16, 2002 

There are times I find myself 
walking through the halls to his old room. 
I slowly enter, and stand in the doorway, 
as my heart and my soul can feel the gloom. 

I enter farther and close the door 
and I sit upon his bed. 
I hug the pillow close to me, 
where he used to rest his head. 

And as I lay my body down, I fall fast asleep. 
My tears continue falling as my dreams begin to creep 
inside my brain... 
And as I drift away, I see him, playing with his friends. 
I wake up screaming, calling his name, God, does it ever end? 
All this pain? 
I want to hide from all the prayers 
I just want to run 
From everyone and everything 
and from The Weeping Sun. 

He never laid a finger 
on even the smallest fly. 
He dreamed of being an astronaut, 
so he could soar through the sky. 

He always listened to his mother, 
he’d do anything she’d say. 
But that’s what made me lose him, 
that one dark, fateful day. 

And as I lay my body down, I fall fast asleep. 
My tears continue falling as my dreams begin to creep 
inside my brain... 
And as I drift away, I see him, playing with his friends. 
I wake up screaming, calling his name, God, does it ever end? 
All this pain? 
I want to hide from all the prayers 
I just want to run 
From everyone and everything 
and from The Weeping Sun. 

Yes, 
As I lay my body down, I fall fast asleep. 
My tears continue falling as my dreams begin to creep 
inside my brain... 
And as I drift away, I see him, playing with his friends. 
I wake up screaming, calling his name, God, does it ever end? 
All this pain? 
I want to hide from all the prayers 
I just want to run 
From everyone and everything 
and from The Weeping Sun.