Technicolor memories
The stick figure man
Went gun in hand
To the room to be by himself
At times that room
Was like his mama's womb
Today it was to be
Something else indeed
Simply put
Today it was to be
His tomb
The feel of steel
In his hand
Like the sands in an hourglass
Enevatable
When need outweighs will
Everything else is of no consequence
Time stands still
Intent reigns
Instant gratification
Holds nothing
In light of suicide
Idolized cemetry
When need outweighs will
Blanking the slate
Of a rancid landfill brimming
Overwhelming
This last semblance of humanity
With nothing left but need
His will indeed becoming complete
At last released
In his toomb
His life painted
On the walls
For all to see
Technicolor memories
All that is left of me
Chris McQueeney 2015
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