...

We hear you fall and run upstairs,
You’re lying on the ground,
A knife in your hand,
And covered in crimson red.
You’re eyes are half open,
And you struggle to draw breath,
While coughing up blood,
We have to ring an ambulance.

As the sirens wail in the distance,
I notice a strange look in your eyes,
A look that worries me deeply,
You look oddly content,
You wear a look of happiness,
On your blood stained face,
Something that I haven’t seen,
In a long time.

Then, all the different questions race through my mind,
Yet they carry the same meaning,
And they are all unanswerable.
Why would you do this to your family and friends?
Why would you give temporary problems a permanent solution?
I want to ask why you did this,
But you look so peaceful on the ground,
So I don’t.

You’re put into the ambulance,
And the flat line signals your death,
The family all start crying,
But my grief was beyond tears,
As I now know,
That my questions will never answered,
And I’ll never know what it is I could’ve done,
To have made your life a little more bearable.