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The pain I feel,

Is deep,

Cutting me,

My heart,

Bursting in flames,

My veins,

Dripping with blood.



I can’t help it,

Who’s fault was it?

Not mine,

But his,

It was his own fault,

But why?

Why has he done such a crime?

Life? Money? Family? Friends? Depression? Stress?



But yet,

I feel so guilty,

I could of helped,

But where was his family?

His friends?

They could of helped,

Send him somewhere,

Not let him lay in one place for 10 years,

In bed,

Doing nothing,



But yet I feel more guilty,

Then anyone else,

I could have helped him,

But yet,

The more I think about it,

I feel more and more guilty.