When I was in 6th grade, almost 5 years ago now, a friend of mine committed suicide. That pain inspired me to write this poem:

Thirteen years old

His future was planned.

A thought in his head

A belt in his hand.

His mind was made up

No one could stop him.

The belt was now around his throat

The world around him darkened.

His thirteen year old life

Flashed before his eyes.

He quickly realized

He was too young to die.

His sister found him

She screamed for help.

He tried and failed to beg her

To loosen the belt.

The darkness closed around him

He walked into the light.

His short life was then over

He ended it that night.

The next day at school

We were told what he had done

We learned that his mother

Had lost her only son

Too late he had realized

He didn't want to die

He left us, his friends

Without so much as goodbye

R.I.P.   Tevin