The truth? Is that what you want?
The truth is like a diamond: beautiful, clear, and forever,
But also cold, hard, and uncaring.
You want the truth? You want the knowledge that I can impart?
Come closer, then, and listen hard.
I'll only tell you once.
The truth is a saddened child, hiding in the dark,
Crying once again, for the last time.
The truth is a schoolboy, ridiculed and beaten,
Tossed aside at every chance.
The truth is a bitter boy, tears dried from years ago,
Staring quietly while life passes him by.
The truth is the dark nights passed in bed,
Lying quietly on his side, with only his sorrows to attend him.
The truth is the agonizing nights of pain,
Doubled over, close to tears, begging for a brief moment of respite.
The truth is a lonely night, staring up at the ceiling,
Bombarded by fears and shattered dreams and hopes gone awry.
The truth is a gloomy figure, bathed only by the light of the stars,
His mind traveling over his life, wondering what went wrong.
The truth is the glint from the cold steel gun in his hand,
And the bullet that holds no judgement, only a welcome end.