The Almighy Paul

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