Selbstmord

A dark poem of hurt and temptation.

Somebody help,
He wants me dead,
He has a gun,
It’s pressed to my head,
He’s touching the trigger,
He’s about to shoot,
This man is my killer,
In jet black boots.

Somebody help,
He’s a mental wreck,
He’s tying a rope,
Around my neck,
The stool below me,
He’s about to kick,
This man is my killer,
This man is sick.

Somebody help,
He can’t resist,
He’s holding a knife
Against my wrist,
He wants me dead,
But nobody else,
This man is my killer,
This man is myself.