Life became unbearable for the young man
And to take his own life was his final plan
So he went to the side garage that night
And hung the rope from the rafter good and tight
He stood tall on the chair and rapped the noose
Just tight enough on his neck so as not to go loose
Thoughts came to him of each time he lost
And he kicked the chair paying his final cost
The tasking came over the radio as a 504 Sudden Death
Where we made our way with each foreboding breath
We parked the patrol car in the darkened street
Then went to the lighted house with deadly feat
And we were met by a sad young man under a street light
Who sad, 'Don't think badly of the one who gave up the fight'
'For he just wanted to be happy but was lost to comprehend'
He left the light and disappeared in the night at the word's end
So we walked up into the house and were greeted at the door
By a father who had found his son and placed him on the floor
He directed us to the garage and to a blanket over his son
When removed I saw it was the man from the street earlier on.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem