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Suicide Letter

by Jon-Jacob F Deal

All resolved with a cordite pop--
Here lies your doctor with his brains on the floor
The blood of your lawyer litigates the ceiling
On the walls, redly written, your writer's final scrawl
I wonder
If I lived long enough
To think about you?
No matter.
For giving me the strength to end myself,
Thank you.

09/28/2001

Author's Note: Still kicking.

Posted on 09/28/2001
Copyright © 2024 Jon-Jacob F Deal

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Anne Boulender on 05/03/04 at 10:24 AM

You are so $#%@ing goddamned precise. Thank you.

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