I thought about it once or twice,

maybe three or four.

About suicide, and what it would be like,

if I didn’t live anymore.

My world is dark and gray,

filled with sorrow and lots of pain.

What can I possibly gain?

Gain the love and trust of friends?
That doesn’t matter because my life will come to an end.

I reach out for the gun,

Hold it straight and steady.

Aim it at my head.

I pull the trigger.

Now I lay there dead.