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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Henry sat in His room staring at his Ceiling thinking, that any man that Thought exactly as he did Ought to have his, head examined Or be seekin, professional help, But he could never convince himself It was what he needed so it never happen. No matter how good his good intentions had been or how hard he tried to do his best He always felt in the eyes Of his friends and family He was less than average, Couldnt lift his spirits Or overcome the feelin Of overwealmin sadness That circled his mind Like the indianapolis Five hundred, he tried runnin Away from his problems And solve them, with expensive habits That did extensive damage To his mental facul-ties. Definately didnt help his ass & Forever felt trapped in his misery, He quickly hatched his exit plan & Accepted that his, Life just wasnt worth tryin to salvage So he convinced himself he was gonna die that day And fly away like Lenny Kravitz To End the madness, Because he believed, that Peace Was only something death would grant him So he went out and purchased a handgun, went back to his room put the barrel in his mouth & Clicked the hammer then pressed the trigger down& Blew his brains out But when his family found him Slumped down on them crimson sheets The greif he had wasnt gone at all it'd been passed along to all his peeps. Suicide aint the answer mang Its just the quickest way to transfer pain
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