The sun sets on the city
People move about
He sits by his TV
Now and then he shouts
He holds his gun in his hand
The cylinder wide open
He sits there wondering
Deep inside he's hoping
That tonight he'll be able to do
What he's wanted to do for a long time
For the past six months
It's all that's been on his mind
The TV volume is turned up
The noise from the street he can hear
When he thinks about not being alive
He doesn't even shed a tear
Suddenly, people hear a gun shot
Someone runs to his door
They knock so very hard
But, he'll answer the knocks no more
Down on the sidewalk a crowd gathers
As his body is rolled out on a gurney
At long last he is content
As he takes his finale journey
1-4-2010/RjH
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem