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Tonight, At About 5:00 PM, My Friend Bobby Carlson Comitted Suicide.

I Remember When We First Met In England.
We Used To Sleep Over, And Mess Around,
And Play Stupid Pokemon Games On His Gameboy.

We Used To Just Hang out And Mess Around.

But, Today I Learned That His Dad, Rick, Hadn't Changed.
He's Still Angry And Threatening.
I Learned That After England, Bobby Wasn't Always The Popular Kid.
I Guess He Was Picked On A Lot Because He Didn't Grow Taller Since
We Moved Away To North Dakota, And He Moved To Virginia.

His Mother Blames Herself.
She Said She Came Home From Work, And Scolded Him For Not Cleaning Up The House Like She'd Asked Him To, And His Sister, Catherine, Went Upstairs To Find That He'd Hanged Himself.

I Thought About All The Mean Things I Did.
I'd Argued With Him.
I'd Stolen From Him, Once.

My Mom Came Down The Stairs, Crying Hysterically.
She Told Me He'd Killed Himself.
I Couldn't Cry More Than A Little, And I'm Angry With Myself For Not Being Able To.
She Told Me 'Change Teams, But Never Just Give Up'

I Wish I Were A Better Friend.
I Wish I Wrote Him A Letter, Or Something.
I Wish I Would Have Known.