School

The other day when I got home from school
I sat down on the kitchen stool.
My mother asked me what I learned.
I replied that death is forced upon not earned.
She asked me why that is what I say.
I told her about the empty seat in science the other day.
She asked me what that meant anyway.
I had asked the teacher where she went.
Thinking and thinking time was spent.
He said that she had passed away.
Deaths swept her frozen feet away.
I asked him what happened.
He shook his head and said he couldn't say.
Handed me a newspaper and simply walked away.
"Shot in the Tub!" the front page reads.
Talks about the girls dirty deeds.
At the bottom it simply says "She will be missed."
That line there got me pissed.
Nothing more nothing less no one really cared.
No one really talked to her no one really dared.
Sure she was creepy, maybe a little mean, but in a way she sort of made me think a bit of me.
We were alike we shared the same tears that were shed on our birthdays year after year.
No one cared enough to hear her problems so no one could write.
A simple story about her to say their last goodbyes.
Just "She will be missed" Which probably no one really said.
Her parents, drunks, didn't even notice that she was dead.
Her face it wore a frown saying she needed help.
And though kids pointed day after day no one could ever tell.
I tried talking to that girl once she was really quite nice.
But when my friends said she was bad I never looked back twice.
And because I never bothered I can't help, but feel some guilt.
Because maybe if I helped her she wouldn't of been killed.
And now that she is gone she is all i can think of.
Wonder where she went to hell or up above.
We shared the same tears, the same spewing blood, but now what separates us goes far on above.
I guess all I'm saying is that she really wanted love.
And with that I left my mother crying near my stool.
Because I had respects to pay to the writer, what a fool.