So here we are at last.
The final resting place of a suffering man.
Hold your hats in remembrance of a crippled soul who longed for a voice and died in silence.
This is who he was:

He began a snowflake, apart from the rest,
And effortlessly, he was a part of the best.
His wit was like lightning, his heart full of care.
And from a young age he was covered in hair.

He grew overconfident, failing to try,
When a glimmer of smoke caught his curious eye.
My love, he remembered, he couldnt forget:
From then on his fate was to all permanent.

He toked on his glassware til end of the day,
His assets and worries all fluttered away.
His friends made abandon, his parents distressed.
Yet he still thought that he was a part of the best.

Pride was his drug of most absolute choice.
His modestly, whole heartedly lost its voice.
Yet he remained steadfast in his pain.
For how could he blame his true love Mary jane?

She led him to xanax, ******* and some pills,
Til that fateful day he grew morally ill.
His only 2 friends to a doctor they took him
And from then on he was a man that was broken.

Sorrow filled his dry viceless soul
As sober induce evil took on a toll
He was a machine and the liquor his tool
To extinguish the fire of a born again fool.

Handcuffs became just a part of the ride
And capsules flowed in Like a north eastern tide.
The drugs like a salt dried up all he had left.
He was poor and alone with a craving for death.

He got what he wanted, that poor depressed man.
But a new one arose with a much better plan.
**** all that ******* with drugs and liquor
If I go back down that road, I'll perish for sure.

So what did he do, after part of him died.
Well he grew the **** up and he finally tried.
He tried and he tried til success he did meet.
And he kept moving forward, as one does with their feet.

His story's not over, this dead man reborn
Theres hope for him yet, his book hadn't been torn.
He rose most impossibly out from the rest.
Now hes finally ready to again be his best.

(Only you define you. No one else, nothing else can defines you unless you let it. There's always hope. There's always hope).

She comforts me, when I'm in pain,
She humbles me, when I am vain.
I can't express my inner peace,
than when I'm with this girl named .

We walk, we talk, we have our fun,
and cry inside when it is done.
I've never felt so **** alive;
she makes my spirit up and thrive.

All thanks to you, my tender ,
whose hugs are just as soft as fleece,
and whose words hang in my head,
a smart, yet balanced, dangling thread.

Outside you're frail, but in you've might
which fills all other boys with fright.
To that I cannot think to say
all but a vibrant Hip Hooray!

You've beat the odds; no one believed.
And lord, I bet you feel relieved.
You're finally done, please fall at ease,
for Jesus Christ, I _ you __.

You were all I had.
Everything I had ever asked for, hoped for.
Everything I had dreamed so long for,
and I threw it all away.

What was I thinking
when I said you weren't beautiful enough for me?
I was such a fool to think you were nothing
less than Perfection.

What a fool I must've seemed
when I didn't call you.
I hope, one day, on a stroke of luck,
you might forgive me. Until then,
my sorry will never seem enough.
You were everything.

Is it true? Am I really alone?
There are people around me,  but the sun hasn't shown
that they can be good, hell they can be great,
but sometimes the people, with hearts full of hate,
feel that the only answer is to hurt one another;
a sister beats sister and a brother kills brother.
This is who we are: monsters inside.
the feeling of hate is one we must abide.
So Am I alone? Has the monster not won?
Are there good people out there, though little to none
When the day comes that my death shall be nigh,
The monsters that make people monsters will die.

What do I do now?
I've taken the final step, I'm Here!
Was it worth it, to end the world?
My World?

What if I did?
What if, as if Lucifer saw fit,
the blade cut through?
Would I be missed?

What do I do now?
I've tried everything, but I'm still here.
Here on this place I used to call home,
though I've always felt behind bars.

What do I do now?
My life is the same.
Do I try again?
Is it even worth living?

What do I do now?
Do I dig as deep as the well goes
to extract what little strength is left
so I may continue?
Is it even worth it?

What do I do now?
my friends are gone.
My family is gone.
I'm all that's left.

Sometimes I wish
the blade did it's job
so I can finally be at peace.