Lying on the ground
crying at what I found
the body hanging
his neck is craning
swinging from the rafters
remembering the laughters
the noose is tied
his tears are dried
his skin is fresh and pale
his body limp at frail
thinking of his reasons
I notice passing seasons
tearing up 'cause he is gone
how could I have been so wrong?
I grab the gun,
the barrel's spun
already cocked and loaded
my tears are more than noted,
I bring it to my head
and fall onto my bed
I'll see him in the afterlife
thank God I didn't use the knife
the pain was little
my death's no riddle
for I am happy here
when my loved one is so near
