Sitting on a bench under a tree arch
All is quiet in Boulder Ridge park
Nothing here except dark sky
Talking to God with no reply
I am trying to decide
Can I do it?
Will it work?
My brain is starting to skew
Knowing there is no rescue
But I have nobody to turn to
Screw it, I am going to try and break through
I'm singing shotgun blues
Before I turn my head into a canoe
Screaming at the stars
I put the barrel in the right place
"Click" goes the trigger
BOOM! goes the face
Now there is no worry
Only a bloodstain mess
But I can see myself
I made it!
No more pain
No more rain
No more fucking insane!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem