The gun I hold
Loaded and cocked
Held in my mouth
Pulled in shock

Putt’s me to sleep
As I drop
As I fall
The bullet that hits me
ends it all

it all goes black
Theres no coming back
Nothing to think about
Nothing to know
Heaven or hell
Where will I go?

But why the end?
Why right now?
To make a statement?
To make a voul?

How can I live in a worldof crises
And how will I learn
Hot to recite this

Tell my stoy
Through a poem
Make them’ hear
This will show em’

I’m now dead
Coz’ you wouldn’t listen
I bullet to the head
That you thought I was missen

I wasn’t crazy
Just a little lost
And now im gone
But at what cost?

Be ashamed its all your fault
If I wasn’t dead ‘d be committing assault.

D.M. Barber

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/suicide-number-2/