It was summertime in the city james was sick of the innuendos
he was lying in his soft bed
soft light crept through the window
thoughts of Cassandra raced through his head
he thought of the love they shared
he remembers the joy that once overwhelmed him in ecstasy
now showered him in despair
the thoughts that where once friends where now hideous enemys
he thought about that horrid moment when she took up that gun
he still screams in nightmares of that wretched day
her dad was beating her, james didn't know, her brother died Cassandra was done
she took her dads glock and blew her head away
he wished he could have changed things
he was too late it tortured his soul
he wished for a way to repent for his sins
but nothing worked torn in his heart was a hole
that could never be mended never be fixed never be truly filled
he ruminated on the pain and hatred of himself
yet somehow he kept trying to rebuild
his sorrow was eventually replaced by his amassed wealth
he found resolve in money and material items
he drowned himself in superficial pleasures
it was his way. how he repents
financial success in drastic measures
was his way out
then the war came
he died fighting the next day bullet to the mouth
what a shame
he died empty





the message of this poem is not intended to be negative.
the message is that no matter what happens you can move on and suicide is not the answer to anything.you can make it through any pain with determination.while it is true some scars never fully heal they still can heal somewhat and that is all you need to move forward.keep moving forward.thank you.god bless you and keep rocking on