Self Destruction Poem by Missa Taylor
Self Destruction
I try and convince myself it's fine.
The problem's ain't
getting any bigger. Who are you trying
to kidd?
Ya kidder.
You got your finger pressed on the trigger.
I'm the one holding
the gun.?
Go figure.
As if you didn't already know. Even i could see
the crack's beginning to show.
You know there won't be anything left soon, i presume.
Nothing but your Doom.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/27/2026 10:44:26 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
