Young Death

The blade feels so good,
Running across his wrist.
So much shit,
Had driven him to this.

A home with no love,
A life made of lies.
If you contributed,
You'll know by the cold of his eyes.

A coffin made of wood,
A dozen black carnations.
One little missed smile,
Throws life out of proportion.

No more laughing,
No more tears.
Is this what you wanted,
Or is this what you feared?

A kids lays there,
Much to young to die.
You didn't even get a hug,
Or a simple goodbye.

Unexpected death,
You didn't have a clue.
That when he slept,
He dreampt of you.

Slowly it became too much,
He knew you were gone.
So he let it bleed,
For far too long.

Passing out,
He knew he was dead.
So he took the path,
That the tunnel lead.

As you look down on him,
Say your final goodbye.
For you'll never see him agian,
Even if you try.