His blood spattered
Across the wall.
His girlfriend screamed
His son cried miserable tears.
His father is dead.
I cannot blame him.
In my mins it is her fault.
Pregnant with another man's child.
Stress, heartache, and alcohol don't mix.
But when they do the result is suicide.
That is what he chose.
Did he feel anything?
The bullet ripping through his skull,
demolishing his liquor drenched brain?
I loved him like a second father,
Only more of a friend.
But he ripped himself from my life.
I was angry, furious.
But i cried my tears,
I was depressed.
I missed him like the air
I breathed uneasily.
I feel pain flood my lungs.
And to think all of this pain
and "Pop" was all they heard.