the poem to be finished later cos I might start bawling my head off

I took two seconds to think
About a friend of mine
Who was only 15
When he had his first line

Now that bad decision
Made a lasting incision
The second he did it
There was no going back

If he were here
He would tell
About how his life
Became a living hell

The next year to follow
Began the ultimate swallow
Of a life once so successful
Diminished to a pile of dirt

What once started as weed
Soon began to lead
To a deep dark hole
With no getting out

Way in over his head
No longer in control
Without a doubt
He just had to get out

But why did he choose
Such a final thing
With so much to lose?

He was so young
With his whole life ahead
Now he's....dead.

Why?