The wind blew in his face
And he gasped for air.
He looked down from tree
And kicked over the chair.
The rope grabbed at his neck,
Tightened around his throat
He struggled to breath,
There was no hope.
He didn't regret his decision,
In his heart there was so much hate
And as his vision turned black
He knew it was too late.
;
The wind grew stronger,
And her hair whipped in her face.
She pulled it back
And ran in haste
Her son was missing,
He wouldn't answer his phone
But inside the woods,
She heard it's loud tone.
She ran through the bushes
And passed all the same trees
And finally finding her son,
she fell to her knees.
There was his phone
Lying on the ground
Next to a piece of paper
The dirt had dyed brown.
She unfolded the note
And read with light from the sun
And inside it said:
It's dads fault
- your son.
