Ironic
Why oh why not commit suicide
Rather than unalive other people
There is a blackness in a heart
To do such a thing for any reason
Of course one must be disturbed
But that seems like a whimsical word
For such a despicable human
Old enough to premeditate murder
A photo and we see skin hair eyes
Blessed to appear normal outside
But the inner spirit surely soured
To pick up a gun and execute for power
You may say suicide is a sin
I say kill self rather than others
Since you feel so divine and inclined
Ready to meet your maker
No one wants to die how you kill
And sit in prison for years you will
Soak up time your victims lost
While death penalty is likely tossed
Because you are saved by grace
You didn’t give
Ironic
Copyright © Karen Jones | Year Posted 2024
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