The almighty Paul stood proud and tall
He never seemed to have any worries at all
His smile was as long as a mile
With dimples deeper than the ocean
He was a gentleman- a very sweet gentleman indeed
Always came through to help those in need
When he was seen around town
Without any doubt, he never wore a frown
One clear breezy fall day
Things felt kind of unusual and gray
Not once did I catch sight of old Paul
I start to worry and began to make calls
Oh Mr. Paul, please respond back
For my heart is slowly breaking
My hands are steady shaking
I just can't bare this unpleasant feeling
I stood upon his doorstep, door slightly ajar
I crept in as the smell of death greeted me mid-air
I walked up the stairs and took a look around
Not pleased at all, of what I had found
There on the ground, stabbed with a knife
Laid his son, daughter, and his beautiful wife
There he sat crying and weeping
No Mr. Paul! Don't!
BANG!
Before I could stop him, he shot himself in the head.
I didn't know what to do; I can't believe he's dead
What was wrong? Maybe he was oppressed or stressed
Who would have know he lived a life full of distress
YOU ARE READING
The Almighy Paul
PoetryBehind a smile, so much pain can be hidden. Never judge a book by the cover. Just because someone appears to be happy doesn't mean they are. Like Paul, they could be going through a lot.