Judgement and Death

She looks in the mirror, At her curly brown locks, “You look beautiful, my dear,” Is all she heard from her pops. When she went to school, Her peers would ridicule: “You are just a stupid fool.” For the fire, it would fuel. Now she sits just there, With a gun in her hand, “Would it be fair?” And then her face went bland. Now her peers all cry Sitting at the funeral As they wholly ask why Through a mask of Adderall. So her dad pulls the trigger; She was all he had left, But now she is a goner, And that was the beginning of death.