Sad Poem

Happy delights never seem to last that long,
He screams in terror as you point the gun,
It was never supposed to be this wrong,
But his abuse isn't much fun,

Wallowing in self-pity as you pull the trigger,
Scarlet stains the carpet as the bullet makes its mark,
No charge, no time, it was self defense they figure,
You wait for the punch line as if all of this is a lark,

It all seems too much,
When silence is too quiet,
And you begin to seek a stranger's touch,
Cutting yourself just to ease the pain if only a bit,

Tainted memories seep down to the core,
Satan's call is just too much to ignore,
So you point the gun,
And pull the trigger,
Because this is not any fun,
And this pain is much bigger.