Razors, Shotguns and Rope
It's just a scar on her arm,
A canvas few choose to paint.
Just a gun, fully loaded,
Waiting to accept her fate.
The ropes looked so convincing
When they were twirled on the floor.
But now it's noosed and hanging
A body taken from this world.
What happened to the family
When they first new she was dead?
Did they wonder why it happened?
Or wish they'd hang their necks instead?
It takes one second to decide
It is a selfish, solo heist
Now another soul is leaving
Life should not have such a price!
Guide that inspired this poem: