.45 and a cyanide ampuleA Poem by Rob FunkIts all lost, Hence I am checking out at any cost, Time to sleep, I'm such a creep, I do believe I am in too deep, Hell these bills are pretty steep, Cant wait to go to sleep, Don't weep, I simply am not worth it, Walk with a sense of purpose, I pulled that trigger once, F**k I regret I didn't meet the digger, An inch to the left, An inch to the right, Why did he leave me here to fight, The bullet struck, I bet my last buck, F**k my luck, I should have died, I told them I was glad to have survived, However I lied, That .22, It failed me like it will fail you, No need to be blue, I can use a .45 just like you, Last time they "saved" me, They knew by saving this life, They enslaved me, Fail safe method, Could it be, A car and a tree, Or this pretty gun, Well this is going to be fun, At least I wont be on the run, I wonder if I will ever hear the thunder, From down under, He was lucky, If that's what you think, You sir need a drink, Close my eyes, Just that 1 split second, Then I shall hear the devil beckon, Nothing I am good at but wreckin, F**k it, They made a pistol for a reason, Well I guess its just the time of the season. © 2013 Rob Funk |
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1 Review Added on July 15, 2013 Last Updated on July 15, 2013 AuthorRob FunkUnited States, PAAboutMostly I write to Heal, however futile the effort proves. more..Writing
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