I'm mad at the world

that took him away

before I knew

much more than his name

I'm mad at the path

his life had to take

that put his young life

as such a high stake

I'm mad at the teachers

whose classes don't end

who knew him as student,

but never as friend

I'm mad that the flowers

still grow in the rain

growing in beauty

they feel not our pain

They die on his grave

that spells out his name

I'm mad at the faces

I see with a smile

not knowing just how

life can pass in a while

I'm mad at the clock

that keeps ticking on

mad at the cold world

for still living on

I'm made because I knew him

mad at what I didn't know

and because of this anger

these empty tears flow

I'm mad for my friends

who knew him like a brother

mad at the night sky

that was that night his cover

I'm mad at the ground

that holds his remains

and angry that our hearts

will never feel the same

I remember his shy smile

I remember it too well

and I'm sorry that so soon

his life whispered 'farewell'

I'm mad with the ones

who's anger must rage

mad at the world

to keep us here in this cage