You hold the trigger to my head
Pull the trigger.
So what?
I'll be dead.
Like I care if you kill me
Then there will be no more pain to see
Maggots, maggots beneath my eyes
This worthless corpse is my disguise
Bury it beneath the ground
Let it rot into a dusty mound
Laughing, laughing there would be
If only I was there to see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem