Poet of the River Poems

Your vision starts to blur,
Your words start to slur,
You find your balance is off.
You refuse to sit,
...

Water running in a steady stream
Flowing over the polished white and brown stones.
The stream is old, its waters cold, the flow running steadily.
A rock falls in, Its journey begins,
...

Larger than one,
But less than two.
Less than a couple,
But more than a few.
...

One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
...

The sky, simple blue,
Casting down its morning dew,
Sprinkling the ground in a gentle hue,
Of what I could have, but didn't do.
...

Should i do it?
Should i try?
just put the gun in my mouth,
Pull the trigger and die?
...

I hope for the best.
but get the worst.
its not simple life.
its a curse.
...

i would do it.
i wouldn't cry.

tell me,
...

I do go kinda crazy when i here a symbol of that perfect pitch,
the one that sounds like a gun firing,
in between my lips,
I know the moment the trigger begins to bend,
...

I have the gun,
It's against my head,
One RIGHT move,
and ill be dead,
...