A Day For Mourning
Do y'all remember the poem I posted not too long ago? You know, the one titled Life on the Line?
Well, Saturday night, April 14th, a APCS sophomore named Bryson Allen committed suicide.
No one knows the reason why. Bryson was a happy, go-lucky guy whose smile made anyone cheerful.
It was his sister, a senior named Paige, who found his body. She's a percussionist in my Jazz Band class.
Today, a memorial was held. There was not a dry face in the building.
What could possibly make someone like Bryson want to end his life? We simply don't know.
I wrote a poem and posted it next to the banner that was made for people to write on. I didn't sign it, simply because it doesn't matter who wrote it, but that it was written in the first place.
I'm not going to post it here online, mainly because it's a APCS-personal thing, and because the poem depresses me way too much.
Words, mere words, cannot express our grief.
Today, tomorrow, the rest of the week, the rest of the year, the rest of our lives, will we mourn the loss of Bryson Allen.
Well, Saturday night, April 14th, a APCS sophomore named Bryson Allen committed suicide.
No one knows the reason why. Bryson was a happy, go-lucky guy whose smile made anyone cheerful.
It was his sister, a senior named Paige, who found his body. She's a percussionist in my Jazz Band class.
Today, a memorial was held. There was not a dry face in the building.
What could possibly make someone like Bryson want to end his life? We simply don't know.
I wrote a poem and posted it next to the banner that was made for people to write on. I didn't sign it, simply because it doesn't matter who wrote it, but that it was written in the first place.
I'm not going to post it here online, mainly because it's a APCS-personal thing, and because the poem depresses me way too much.
Words, mere words, cannot express our grief.
Today, tomorrow, the rest of the week, the rest of the year, the rest of our lives, will we mourn the loss of Bryson Allen.