This is the story of a mother,

Or more specifically her son.

He didn't **** himself,

He just held the gun.



She couldn't see the signs,

That her child was slowly breaking.

Society judged his every turn,

They said his cuts were faking.



He feared his journey to school,

For the bullies on the way.

The mother watched him, smiling,

Knowing nothing of his day.



Finally he'd had enough,

He just wanted the pain to end.

The mother walked into his room,

To find him beyond mend.



This is the story of a mother,

Or more specifically her son.

Society killed the boy.

He just held the gun.



This story is not true,

Yet it happens every day.

The sequel is yours to write,

Its plot is yours to say.