The way to gather a crowd - inspired by Rascal Flatt's Why

I'm wondering why, on this sunny, cloudless day, why are we all gathered here dressed in black? And why, why are we listening to people who can barely gasp a breath between their tears to try to talk about someone who they love deeply? And why is this the way you decided to gather the crowd for one last time?

And as I try to blink away the tears, I raise my head to look up at the blue, blue sky. Why, oh why, did you leave the stage in the middle of a song?

Standing at the podium, I face the crowd that you've gathered. I remember the kinds of crowd you used to gather - the ones that would cheer at your games, the ones that would support you till the very last minute. But look what's in front of me now. They're supposed to be gathered here for you, and not listen to other people talk about you and cry and blubber as they try to push their way through their incoherent speeches. And as I try to do the same thing, I see all our memories flash in front of my eyes - your smile, your voice, your smell, your touch. I feel myself grab onto the edges of the podium, the only thing linking me to reality as I hear myself ask over and over again why oh why oh why.