Bullet Poem by kharon march

As the bullet passes through my face I begin to feal deaths cold embrace.Is this how it feels to be dead laying on the ground with a bullet an my head.I wonder what little tears will be shed over my tragady and what legacy i leave in my wake.I will transend from the misery of this life and take with me the memorys of pain and hate.Sad that its to late to say good bye pity that this was just another teenage suicide.