Slings and Arrows
Posted: 13 October 2003
Word Count: 100
Summary: To be posted on writewords or not to be posted on writewords... that is the question.
A warm place, a loaded gun
A suicidal conundrum:
Sitting here I am at peace
(Gripping tightly this polished piece)
And very soon all problems will cease
But then so will I.
Thatís one in the eye
For all those I owe
But one in the stones
For all those I know
And love. A quandary, a groan,
Dirty laundry and a bar of soap.
But no will to wash it clean.
(Aye, thereís the rub a dub, dub.)
Now nothingís as it seems
So Iíll just sit still and wait some
In a warm place, with a loaded gun.
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