Young Writers Society

Tears ran down his cheeks,
all those nights of restless sleep.
Sorrow they would never see,
anger simmering like a brew.
Names marring his once vivacious soul.
Malicious words is all he hears.
Fists clutched with rage,
someday they would have to pay.
He thought, why not let that be today?

Weapon in his hand,
Head filled with dirty plans.
Blood spattered on the walls,
he wanted to see them crawl.
He wanted to see their pain.

Words engraved into his heart,
tearing his soul apart.
No one there to stop him,
no one there to love him,
no one told him this was wrong.
No one had been there to stop them when he was not strong.
The predator now the prey,
horror marked on their face.
They would have to pay.

Tears rolled down his cheeks,
he shuddered at what he’d done.
Blood shed with his hands,
this wasn’t what he had planned.
He’d never wanted this type of revenge,
all he had wanted was friends.

Officers took him to their car,
he knew they’d soon put him behind metal bars.
This wasn’t what he deserved.
It wasn’t what should have occurred.
If someone could of loved him,
if someone could of held him,
if someone could of kept him sane,
maybe things wouldn’t be this way.
No one helped him in his cell,
no one stopped him when he tied the sheets in a loop.
No on stopped him when he hung himself.
If only someone could have loved him,
Then maybe he’d be someone else.