My old man�s revolver
in my hand.
Surprisingly heavy.
Long barrel, infinitely
long.
It leads to the after life.
In its barrel lies one
copper bullet.
Waiting to leave its home.
But it�s surprisingly heavy.
It takes strength
to hold it against
my head.
The cold steel.
so very cold.
The triggers so hard
hard to pull.
I squeeze but the
trigger doesn�t move
harder I squeeze
still nothing.
I squeeze�
no I don�t.
I can�t