This sad little story
I'm about to tell,
Will show you the meaning of hell.
He cries and shouts,
Just wanting to get out.
His silent tears,
And hidden fears,
Creep inside his mind.
He tries to find,
But cannot reach,
The truth inside himself.
He's falling down,
And cannot meet,
The touch of the floor with his feet.
Help this boy,
He gets ripped and toyed,
Like a useless doll
Who tries to breathe and cannot crawl.
He's almost free,
But cannot see,
There's more to life,
Then needing that knife.
This sad little story,
I almost didn't tell,
Was probably not, the real meaning of hell.
But remember,
This poor little boy,
Just wanted to end,
He was nothing,
But my greatest friend.
-Last night I recieved a phone call from my boyfriend. He told me that his parents just got into a huge argument, and he got into a fist fight with his brother. He burst into tears, and asked me, "What am I going to do?" I simply sat there, and couldn't answer. Without much help, I wrote this.
