Thought Before The Trigger Clicks Poem by Everlasting Nightmare

Her hand shook,
as she held the gun to her head.
An open book.
Who would care if she was dead?

A book nobody,
ever tried to read.
Full of misery.
Full of need.

Need for a caring heart.
Without one,
she instantly fell a part.
Death won.

All of the feelings,
she had inside.
Were ending,
her world outside.

Nobody tried to care,
so why should she?
They were never there,
time to set her soul free.

No more worry,
no more doubt.
Her eyes went blurry,
the tears poured out.

Her it goes.
Her last hope.
Blood flows.
A new way to cope.

The hope for a world,
after death.
Her finger curled,
a last breath.

Maybe hell,
would be better.
She might as well,
pull the trigger.

*Click*