Tempest

You were only twelve
When you learned how cruel
People can be and
The apathy that
Others have for it.
Because it's always
Better you than them.
I wish I was there
To give you the hug
You desperately
Needed from someone.
Does it get better
After you grow up?
I wish I could give
You a definite
Answer, but I still
Do not know myself.
I want to wipe off
You tears and tell you
That you have a friend,
But it's too late now.
You took your own life.
And we are left with
A question we don't
Want to ask ourselves:
How do we stop kids
That want to make your
Life a living hell?