robin williams

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When hearing the phrase "O Captain, My Captain" I can only think of one person to fit this criteria. Robin Williams is and was the only person to accurately portray what it was like to struggle
Yeah, I was sad when Robin Williams died I sat there and watched as my whole family cried But what got me was the outrage that came from his suicide Yet, nobody cared this much when Lelah Alcorn died
Suicide Doesn't always look like A girl dressed in all black With thick black makeup And scars all over her arms Sometimes Suicide Looks like Someone who's always laughing
Dark and cold,       A tale so old,  Coming home,     Waiting to unfold.    He sits on his bed,      Painting his wrists red, Urging the thoughts,     To just leave his head.   
Lover, Comedian, Father, Friend All theway to the bitter end This man just wanted to make people smile And have them laugh and remember him for a long while   Famous for roles on the silverscreen
  O Robin why did you have to go away? It was not the only way Inspiring us all with your comedy Teaching us that laughter is always the key I hope that you have peace wherever you are
Death is a part of us all More than others But all death is for reason Which we don't know Until we die Ourselves   Depression is real And it hurts
Attempt number one was in the third grade the first time she called me useless because I couldn't do a braid The second attempt was much later  in the seventh grade when people behind my back snickered laughing at my pain
I have noticed now so more than ever That hidden behind the illuminating moon Is a dark side we will never see. The man I saw as a father Whose works I enjoyed  Through the stages of my life.
I am not going to claim suicide, suicide wants you to kill yourself, Its the reason over 800,000 million people lives ended, In competition but who wants to win, You or suicde, So many things it do to hurt you,
Laughing back at me in the glass of a two sided mirror, A sinister clown inside of me that won't disapear.
She says it eased her pain, As the blade dripped of blood, She said she no longer felt cold, As scars were left. She claimed she no longer cried, Herself asleep,
It’s so hard for me to see it. I stare at it, talk it through, and analyze it, But I’ll never feel it like you do. And I’m sorry for that.   I’ll never understand your self-loathing
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