6The father of Margaret Rich
Was a depressed and lonely man,
Raised his only daughter
Solely by his own hand.
The father of Margaret Rich
Never talked much at all.
Seemed to prefer his own company
To that of anyone at all.
The father of Margaret Rich
Was trapped in his own head,
But could come out now and then
To put his daughter safe to bed.
But little Margaret grew and grew
Really unnoticed by her dad,
Lived a life controlled by herself
A life that's rather sad.
She never knew her father
As closely as she could,
But knew her existence in his world
Was really his one good.
Knew he loved her very much
But battled in his own mind
Against his demons and his beasts
That shut him to the world blind.
And then one day he'd had enough
Couldn't think of anything left to do
But silence the demons forever
By shooting his head through.
Poor little Margaret Rich
Heard the shot go off;
Went upstairs to find her dad
With a sputter and a cough.
His attempt at suicide
Had not worked as planned.
But too weak to finish the job
He could not move his own hand.
The father of Margaret Rich
Looked at his daughter and cried,
"I'm sorry," he said to her,
He trembled, coughed, and sighed.
Margaret Rich looked at him
Saw a sad and pitiful creature.
Knew he could never come back
Not that he'd ever been able to reach her.
She knew that his demons were still there
And could not be put to rest,
So she took the gun from his failed hand
And shot her father in the chest.