His Room

In his room You heard begs and pleas Something you worried about One day you had the courage To open the door But when you opened the door He was sitting on his bed, Smiling, as he replied 'I'm fine' Each night you come home To find him not in his room He is out- Trying to make the pain fade By anything he could do And one night You come home with silence And guess he is out again As you follow up the steps You worry And as you open the door You don't see him You see a video camera And tissues on the bed And along the bed Is where his body lied, The truth covering his wrists. And now you know He was never really fine.