The
Boy
and
the
Bullet
He was the quiet kid,
The one you laughed at with your friends.
The one who took his blood and wrote,
“They’ll all be sorry in the end.”
He always had a pad and pen,
As he lay awake at night.
He thought of you and all you said,
And one day lost the will to fight.
Now with a pistol in his lap,
And a pencil in his shaking hand,
He’ll write a letter to his loving mom,
And hope she understands.
And on the news they’ll interview,
Inform the world on what was done.
As a crying mom can barely say,
“I can’t believe I lost my son.”
And on his grave they wrote the words,
“Poet, friend, and loving son.”
Forever we’ll love him.
Forever we’ll miss him.
May you never forget the boy with the gun.
xTwitcHx | 
