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.