I walked in the room,
The puddle of blood caught my sight.
Your cold, stiff, motionless body lied next to the bed.
You still gently gripped the knife.
No pulse or breath could be felt.
Your eyes held a blank stare, one I will never forget.
The blood still dripped from your throat.
The word -death- was carved deep into your leg.
Why would you want to be alone?
Off in a dark, lonely, distant place?
That I will never understand.
I then caught sight of your letter.
It explained everything, how depressed you had been,
How frustrated and angry you were.
But suicide wasn\\\'t the answer! I screamed.
You always said how problems complicated your life,
But I never seen it as a cry for help.
But now it too late for that.
My best friend is gone, gone forever.
