Suicide
A person committed suicide,
Yesterday, around where I live,
I wonder what debt he was in,
That his life was the only thing left for him to give,
I heard he had cut his wrist,
Or something that had caused him to bleed,
Some say it was a murder,
Some say he was high on weed,
I wonder what the truth was,
If the murderer was really his mother,
How she didn't see the blood all over the floor,
Of her own son and no other,
He was lying there for good two hours,
I wonder what was he thinking,
Did he really wanted to kill himself,
With his world, he thought was sinking?
Was it really his own fault?
Was it really his own decision?
What about the future he once planned?
What about his dreams and his visions?
Now it makes me scared of the world,
And all the decisions it compels me to make,
It had demolished his heart & soul,
Until there was nothing left to break.
