why do i lay here thinking about the pills and guns by my head?
are the pills good? dose the gun work?
lets see i put the pills in my mouth one by one.
there on my tounge i can't move so i go for the gun
put it by my head
will i shoot it?
bam. i think i did but im breathing
it was my mom dead. good she needed to
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh my, this reminds me of a person I once knew, she is now dead, unfortunately at the hands of her own son, due to drugs, it was a very sad situation. She lived for many years in a wheelchair and could only move her head no more that a quarter of an inch. A very bright, nice, beautiful person on the inside and out, shot down by drugs. Drug users have no idea how they affect those that love them. Your poem is truly sad and could easily bring tears to those that find themselves in similar situations.---Melvina