A sad Tale..

Maybe as a kid he was rejected, addicted and non protected,
Had a father who was always high, and a mother who just wished he'd die,
Maybe he never went a day without being made way with
Feeling astray as his mother leaves and walks away,
Wishes his father left and had an accident, wrecks his chest and gets a coma on top of it,
Maybe is his mind he ran but no pop or nan to hide with

He's alone in this cold world feels his father figure is the dark sith,
As a kid he's always mad, plotting the day when he'd hit his dad
A failure at life he had assumed, no friends or christ thoughts that he was doomed.
This kid had no chance, no mother there to build his stance,
You can see the inner death, summer day stillyou can see his Cole breath,
No one knows what's inhanced, black clothing long sleeves
Try to hide how much he bleeds,
The scars may heal but one thing never will,
This kid isn't living long ago he had been killed,
No conscious he turns to blood, feet in the dirt and his face in the mud,
Can't move or see clearly, clearly his father made him fear thee
Merely appeared he hates himself with a passion kills himself in rations
No reaction from a relative, no one wants him or at least for him to live

Last words

One day a girl, Sara, who was fifteen years old, came home from school in a very bad mood. She'd had a fight with her best friend that day and it hadn't turned out well at all.
"Sara!" her mom yelled. "What are you doing? You know to do your chores right when you get home! And you're late!"
"Coming, Mom!" Sara yelled, getting up and stomping towards the kitchen. "What?" she snapped as her mother gave her a stern look, annoyed.
"You'd better straighten up your attitude, young lady," her mom warned, "or you'll be grounded."
"Whatever." Sara began to throw around the dishes in the sink, trying to make as much noise as she possibly could. A plate cracked and cut her hand. Sara cursed.
"Sara!" her mom exclaimed. "How dare you use that language! Go to your room!"
"No!" Sara yelled, throwing down the towel she was using to wipe the blood off her hand.
"Do you want to say 'no' one more time and see what happens?" her mom asked. She looked furious.
"Sure," Sara said sarcastically. "No."
"How dare you!" Her mother slapped her.
Sara shrank back, staring incredulously at her mom. She had never hit Sara before.
"I HATE YOU!" Sara screamed before running out of the house.
"Sara, get back here!" her mom yelled, running after her.
"Leave me alone!" Sara screamed, running across the street. "I HATE YOU!" she screamed again.
She continued running until she heard the sound of screeching tires and a scream. She turned around, hoping that it wouldn't be what she thought it would be....
People were crowding around Sara's mother, who was laying in the middle of the street, looking broken, bloody.
"NOOOO!" Sara screamed, running over and pushing through everyone to kneel by her mom. "Oh no, oh no...."
Her mom wasn't moving or breathing. She was gone. Sara tipped back her head and wailed to the sky, sobbing so hard it hurt.
She couldn't believe the last words she had spoken to her mother were "I hate you".

To everyone out there who tells your parents or friends you hate them, or any other rude thing, remember it might be the last thing you ever say to them.