Hardships (read at own discretion, suicide prevention.)

When he was young he used to fight, 
For no reason he had so many demons,
Rolling in his head. 

When he was young he used to punch holes in the walls of his House, 
Used to beat on his little brother
Leaving him bruises just cause . 

When he was young his dad told him 
After seeing the hole his son made
"Be a real fucking man and hit something 
That you know won't break. 
Let's see how you feel when you 
Hurt your fist." 

So he searched for the devil 
And when he found him 
He socked him in the face. 
Leaving his head faceless,
Bouncing off his shoulders 
Rolling in the ground 
Making a loud Sounds 
And causing all hell to drown. 

He said with the devils head 
Hanging on his right hand, 
"Dad I guess I found the devils 
Weakness. 
I can't control myself at times 
I think I need help, 
Coping with my anger 
I just get so enraged I want to 
Inflict pain 
To the point Where it's making me insane,
My hair is falling off 
I'm becoming bald 
It's like a cancer that I just can't 
master, 
My blood pumps faster and it's 
Because all this times I was 
Bullied when I was younger 
For being deaf 
And having a hearing aid 
All my friends thought it was 
Funny and you taught 
Me that there's no such thing as 
Friends so I guess I have none. 
But I still wonder why everyone else 
Does, 
Is this the type of shit you say to a kid? 
This head should have been yours and 
I should collect it in my room. 
But you're right I still need to practice 
Letting out my anger and 
Hit things that want break." 

So then he began to cut himself, 
Because in his mind 
It is better to inflict pain toward 
Himself than others. 
He saw it like a punishment, 
Each time he said something mean,
Each time he felt the urge to hit something,
Each time he wanted to scream at his 
Little brother for doing something stupid. 
Cut, cut, cut, with a razor In hidden places 
Let the blood flow. 

When his dad saw this his dad said,
"Why are you cutting yourself?" 
As if he was supposed to have an 
Answer. 
His dad continued, 
"If want to Inflict real pain 
Be a fucking man and make 
A real cut." 
So the kid slit his wrists,
Punching holes in the wall till 
His knuckles broke and he bled to death. 
That same day his little brother saw him, 
Crying and screaming he ran to his 
Mom asking 
"Mom! Mom! What happened to Matthew?! Hes laying on the floor with 
Ketchup all over himself
Like in the movies" 

When the mom sees him she wraps 
His wounds to stop the bleeding 
Hoping that there was still hope 
To begin with. 
She told her younger son to call 911
As she began to give her dead son 
Chest compressions 
And opening his mouth to 
Breathe into him
She refused to believe it was too late, 
She refused to believe 
She has lost her son.
She didn't want to give up, 
But she knew he was 
Gone and he wasn't coming back. 
She asks God why Oh why 
Why does it have to be his time,
She remembers all the times 
She said things she didn't mean 
All the times he asked if they 
Could buy him some new Clothes
and they just said no. 
For the times he wanted to go outside 
And play ball at the park 
And his mom always said she was 
Just too busy. 

Because of his "problem" 
He was separated from the family 
What kind of a life is that, 
Should you even ask that?

Take care of those you claim to love, 
And take care of those you 
Are so close to. 
Love them, care for them,
Hug them when you say goodbye 
Like you won't ever see them again. 
When you judge someone realize 
That You're making the choice to 
Kill them on the inside. 
And when they respond they are killing you.
Instead of telling others that they're 
stupid ,
Teach them. 
Instead of telling other they have a problem,
Help them.
Cause you don't know what people go through. 

Suicide has been growing, 
And the whole world is depressed, 
Everybody is just in a hurry to go 
To a better place. 
But it's not the way, 
Believe me it's not the way.
You have people that will die for you, 
Siblings who look up to you,
People who smile when you smile. 
There needs to be a change.

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