Alone

Alone

Violence prone

Thoughts on life

Silenced by the knife

No friends

All dead ends

Rage

From being kept in a cage

Mourning

For a life never fully lived

But easily lost

The beckoning of a knife

The scars from a harsh life

His soul

Black as coal

Hurt by many

Loved by few

The gun is cocked

The door is locked

Ended soon will be the pain

As his blood falls like rain.