"Another Tragedy" the paper reads.
The pain he felt no one ever sees.
'Fuck You World' he slowly hissed.
Front page says he will be missed.
The tears soaked on smear the ink.
He needed your love, not a shrink.
Reporters say the gun needed hid.
At eighteen he's no longer a kid.
Typed in bold lays his only desire.
"His face always showed a smile."
All the shit was fed to the towns.
They'll never recognize his frowns.
Obituaries said who got left behind.
A gun showed the joy he got to find.
He just had to see how love felt.
Now love is in lies the paper dealt.
The article must be fed to everyone.
So they can be pitied for their son.
Pictures let you pretend you care.
After it all, you were never there.
You walk on the blood stained floor.
Since tomorrow's news is at the door.
Ten years later he's lost in a book.
Maybe it's worthy of a second look.
Faded and torn rests the old news.
He was never alive for you to lose.
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