Sometimes a bullet brings peace. Sometimes, it’s just feels right. Sometimes loved ones leave this earth unexpectedly in the middle of the night, sometimes to survivors, a bullet seems ripe. Sometimes, we never get the chance to say goodbye. Ofen times we are left wondering why.
Sometimes, everyone and everything around you is dying. Sometimes, a razor to wrist ends the crying… Sometimes, you want to leave this planet out of sight. Sometimes, we want to curl up and die.
Sometimes, life goes along swimmingly, everything seems alright, and then a tumor appears on your dogs’ underbelly seemingly overnight. In your gut, you feel the end, might be in sight. Sometimes, an overdose of pills might make it all right.
In my opinion, the world doesn’t change much. We all live and die and end up as dust.
Sometimes, this life, I can’t take another night, cold steel to my head, with a bullet, I fight.
Somedays, you wonder what tragedy you might be called to behold, what’s the next round of lies that you’ll be told, why is there’s no more songs to sing? from a noose, you long to hang and swing.
Sometimes, what seems right isn’t.
Frankie The Earthman 