William, O William,
What to say about you?
Your story so tragic,
Your story so true.
Mother left you,
At the age of two.
As did the maid,
Who practically raised you.
Eleven siblings you had,
To add to your stress.
Father beat all of you,
His only way to supress.
Even more tragedy,
When you were eight.
Struck by a car,
Driven by hate.
Never to wake,
According to some.
Slipped out of your coma,
Your time not yet come.
Construction, you found,
Was the right job for you.
Established a company,
By age twenty-two.
A wife and three children,
You came to bear.
Abusive impulses,
Left your home bare.
You now are gone,
By your own hand.
Too much to handle.
Too much to understand.