He was walking home
Ticked off with a broken nose
They stole his things
And with no shame
Left cuts and bruises
Head to toe covering him
No one gets his mind
No one really tries
He hides in the closet
When he gets home
In fear of his intoxicated father
His leather belt
Swinging from his fist
The boy cries in bitter isolation
He can't trust anyone
With no safty
He fears for his life
His mother was killed when he was five
Nine years later
He just wants to die
Multiple times he's tried
Every one of them
He survived
His wrists bleed for releaf
His skin pulls tight
Then it's released
He tiptoes out of his room
This for the last time
His father asleep in the chair
He looked pail
His chest barely moving
If you weren't paying attention
You might think he was dead
The boy got an idea
Such a melancholy idea
He went in to his father's quarters
Peaking under the bed
There lay a box full
Unsold meds
A knife in the kitchen would be his weapon
Nothing but a sigh let out
His father was soon to be no more
His heart pounded
His mind thundered
With anger and pride
"This is for Mom!"
He screamed with tears in his eyes
A knife to the chest
He fought the man
Pushing further and harder
He worked fast
The eyes glazed over
Both fear and joy filling his heart
Into the bathtub
Pills in hand
He turns on the water
He uncaps the bottle
Putting it to his lips
Up turned
He sinks down
Letting the drugs take their toll
Gone
******
Suicide
This was the price
For freedom
For justice