I call him a monster
when I write about him.
Because I can't imagine
a person would do what he did.
Make him a story, a monster,
Not a human, he can't be.
He couldn't understand the word no,
Nor the pleading and the tears.
He cannot be a person,
with a family, friends,
who listens to old rock music
and eats take out Chinese food on Saturdays.
He can't be a person,
I don't understand.

When their was no reason to live.
Life was useless, better to give.

You were frustrated and pumped.
From top of roof you jumped.

It was just a matter of second
yet enough to live whole life in this errand.

Ups and downs of life passed through your eyes.
You wished to give your life another try.

But now it was too late.
Worldly life had already closed its gate.

Your delicate body crashed into the ground.
It all ended with a dull and feeble sound.