He plays a game
For no prize or fame
It starts out easy,
He wakes up queasy

He brings a paper with him to school,
And that's the time he plays it cool
Once in a while he pulls it out,
Stroke of a pencil helps him count

Carries it with him on the bus home
Into the cabinets fingers will roam
Saddly, quietly checks his score,
Six pills seven pills, sometimes more

Shaking, he slowly pours one glass,
Crying while he swallows them fast,
Lets go of the cup, closes his eyes
Body thuds to the ground, He hopes never to rise

Too bad he played his little game,
Too bad we couldn't stop his pain
We called him names, we spread rumors, lies,
We were the reasons he had those lines