Giving Up

A life about to end from the barrel of a gun, A kid who feels he’s had all he can take, He wants to end it all before the rising of the sun, So he’ll choose an irreversible mistake, But he didn’t think in depth about the choice that he would make, Or the people he would hurt when he was dead, He just thought about his sorrow and a fear of a tomorrow, On that night he put that gun up to his head. He knew his death would traumatize the others at his school. He knew that they’d be haunted by their blame, They’d treated him so badly; kids are known for being cruel, And he wanted them to feel his sense of shame, But he didn’t understand that death is not a silly game, As he sat with that revolver in his bed, But he thought about their guilt, for his blood that would be spilt, On that night he put that gun up to his head. He never stopped to think that night about the ones he loved, He never stopped to think how they would feel, Instead he turned his vengeance to the ones who pushed and shoved, For his anguish he could finally reveal, But although it may seem heartless and perhaps a tad surreal, He obsessed over their pending sense of dread, For he knew for him they’d weep, and he’d haunt their very sleep, On that night he put that gun up to his head. He never pulled the trigger on that dark and fateful night, And he’s still alive today I guarantee, It’s an all too common story of an oft too common plight, But to me this one is special – it was me.