If I Had a Gun

A dark fantasy poem.

If I had a gun
I would not be here.
I would have snatched it up in rage,
I would have ripped away my page.

The toys upon my desk would stare,
Glassy eyed
At my empty chair.

If I had a gun
It would not take much.
The box of bullets
Barely touched.
Bored blood leaking
From my soul,
From that tiny hole.
The misery fading,
Full of lead.

I would have laughed out loud,
I would have shot it dead.

If I had a gun
The sunlight would be forgotten,
That gleaming ocean:
I would lie upon the bottom.
Time dispersed like tiny grains of sand,
Annihilated by my own destructive hand.

My eyes are closing.
I can barely
Speak
Or move
Or stand

But if I had a gun
I could fly far from this land.