The Inner Rage Built Up

This inner rage built up. Maybe I should put myself down. Like a sick dog, play tricks? Maybe I should load up the gun, One shot two shot and *bang* The blood is beginning to pour. The family walked in, What a sight to see. Usually he laughs at his darkness, Now he is taking alieve to relieve, He was only 20 when he was dead. He was no coward he enjoyed life, What was his motive? What made him snap? He was innocent. But guess women have no souls. As they cleaned his blood they are left with this thought, What makes this young man wanna take a gun to head? What kind of God allows this? He always wears his heart close. Even though he's dead his spirit is near.