Ready to kick the proverbial bucket
Ready to throw my hands up and chuck it
Never loved
I've had enough
Ready to throw it all away
Ready to collapse and decay
There's nothing left
What could be next
Ready to taste the metal and feel the steel
Ready to lose perception of what is real
A hole in my head
Wish it were you instead
Laying there in your bed
Could care less that I'm dead
Jim 1996
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem