Dear Mr. Rooney

Dear Mr. Rooney ,

It grieves me to say

That you are gone from us

Not with us today.


I’m drinking my coffee

And sitting quite warm

But not here with you

And inside a storm.


Every single passing

Makes me feel old

And has since I was little

Inside it feels cold.


I’d imagine you’d hate this

But who am I to say?

I pray that you wait with the angels

For our judgement day.