Life makes you want to shoot yourself with a gun.
When it happens its been done.
Fore here i stand in the sun light.
Hating the sun with all my might.
fore it is way to bright.
Its black spots are to black beads around my neck.
Life hating me and my good deeds.
Suns heat can kill a dove.
But.......can also die from a bullet cove.
Life hates me even my good deeds.
So here i am again on the hill top-
Falling to the bottom with a plop...
Maybe from a gun shot.
Or its just a thought......
I suppose! ! ! ! !
Life is ruff.
Just be tough
And hide in a dark corner.
Not the Mexican border.
very true in the beginning.. But would never do it.. Great poem and your a great poet...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Life is short enough, tomorrow, you never know