The walk home from school, made its own rules,
With mud on his shoes from great muddy pools.
Collecting conkers in the last of the light,
Thoughts of his day, he was clever, so bright.
This was his last day, his thoughts where to spare,
Lying in the leaves, blood rushed through his hair.
None could find reason why he had to die,
Some twisted mind, sought authority to defy.
Empty is the home, as is his fatherâ€™s heart,
From all his sweet treasures, Mother cannot part.
Arrested is a person, who holds no morals on life,
Now dead from the love of a partner or wife.