Everyday he shows up, and it seems his life is more unforgiving,
Should he blow up, his mind is sizzling, wife isn't at all kidding,
She'll leave him,times a giving,everyday his mood swings shifting,
from bad to worse, he's givin it his all, his boss won't let it up,
He's getting ready for the fall, anguish repeats itself like a hiccup,
His back is against the wall, as if his minds in his own stick-up,
Fellowships his own,ones life is full of strife, lost in another zone,
Can't even be entered by his wife,wounds that can't be sewn,
Healing is a lost process, his wife and boss also having an affair,
So now he's lost death out of his concious, they're not aware,
That he knows,only noise heard between their moaning are crows,
Suppose,they'd die,none would find out,stop to his highs and lows,
So the objective in his minds been played out, here it now goes,
KAAPLLOOWW!!, KAAPLLOOWW!!, sounds of the shotgun blow,
No more showing up to work, no more showing up to his home,
Thats the last day of his perfect attendance record, free to roam,
One shotgun shell left, hes cases hims own life into his own tomb,
KAAPLLOOWW!!

__________________

Soft Focus
Suicide Inc.
RhymeVantage
Def.Ill
Ghost-Writers

Retarded people's heads are to big..I'll be back with something just as funny as watching the Special Olympics..don't worry..