At the stroke of twelve he took the leap, and was dead within the five.
Suspended in the air a sign for all to see, a testament for what he was and how he lived his life.
The teacher hung for his own wrongs, killed by his own pain
Scrawled along the walls he wrote the final message of his time
"Never follow in my stead, for you'll never clean the stain."
Swinging like the pendulum of life, his momentum slow and steady.
Until it came to a halt was his spirit at the ready.
So this my children of the world, never to forget.
Do not look back on what's been said, and let it cause you strife
Look towards the breaking dawn with eagerness and no regret.
Though most of all I tell you pupils, you must never take your life.
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This is an old piece I wrote nearly two years ago, just stumbled across it today and felt that modifying it might ruin what I had originally intended.