Crowned with a golden torch, smoked and dried.
With a knife to the wrist we had all known she tried,
and a lost lovely voice, that died.
Towering was another presence, holding the embered torch, still flickering with rioting cried,
Roaring and rhyming
Spitting out crude names.
Do they not have shame?
A child never the less , barely the age of 12,
Watches her only strength, give in , give up
and there she's left with no hand to be held.
This new generation can only see, past the first layer of reality,
Mama's yeeling! She;s crying, she's begging for the loss of pain to relieve
But instead at the door she gets a message, that the remains of the misunderstood teen, are ready to be retrieved.
All the doctors say the exact same thing, their faces smooth and solemn
as if this happens everyday,
"Ma'am, it happens all the time, everything will be ok"
How about, um, no?
The teenage blubering girl doesn't say much
but all her thoughts start to rush
They say she's crazy-mental in the head
Insane even,
but no one understands the personal pain, the feeling of complete dread.
The media then come in,
Acting as if it's a rarity, and such a sin
The dealthly upset best friend cringes at the signs
The news reports, the pitied looks
All the fake.
"are you gonna be alright?"
Daddy on the other hand doesn't even know, he's somewhere in California walking down his own road
and frankly, he never calls, so he will never know.
It's kinda a funny thing though,
Because after a week or two life will move on,
and the family will be left be.
All the news, the people, most of america avert there eyes to the reality.
That suicide and death happen each day and all the time. Some just choose,
to stay blind.
So don't you dare act so surprised, when a classmate, a friend even someone you despise,
sleeps for the last time.
Upsettingly that's life,
and even if sick and twisted. It happens all the time