When he was young his life was so grand,
he thought his joy would only expand.
But alas he was small and did not understand,
that people disliked him and treated him like sand.
They pushed and they shoved they kicked him away,
he pulled into himself and there he vowed he will stay.
He talked in jumbles and never repeated,
the awful way in which he was treated.
Before he died he wrote this poem,
He did this all within his home.
A place where love should be given out freely,
but here it was passed only discreetly.
He covered his feelings in a coat of indifference,
so as when people pushed he wouldn't feel the resistance.
He had one friend that still remand,
He treasured him like golden rain.
He told his friend he's done this before,
but all he got back was a bored rapport.

He killed himself, he died alone
Where he lived it ain't no home.
His mom and dad they didn't care,
they didn't even notice he wasn't there.
He cried a lot he couldn't function,
nobody noticed this ill fated junction.
He took some pills and fell asleep,
they buried him under 6 solid feet.

So this is a story of a child with no home,
a boy with no friends and at the end a man all alone.
He got to this state through his screwed up perception,
he was never stopped in his tracks alas there was no
intervention.