I'm not good with feelings,
I'm horrible at goodbyes.
I sit alone in my room
and pass time with cries.
The society we live in,
so small and so broken.
I'd rather  be bruised by
words left unspoken
and to think that once it was much
worse than this,
would make me believe
someone took a hit and miss.

And at nights all alone when I stare at the sky,
I think of the kids and how they all died.
A knife to the throat
A hit to the eye
A gun to the head
A sigh then a bye

I can't help,
but think what all of them missed when they died
and gave their last kiss.
Were all of them loves?
Or none at all?
Did all of them die
with a break in their cry?

Reality is a prison
and they were done serving.
Maybe that means the tables are turning.