they are out there waiting
i do not choose the knife
test the rope
load the rifle
aim the blow
swallow the poison
lie down to die
it's simple
a young boy is walking home from school
he has brown eyes
his cheeks are rosy
a car pulls up to the curb
the boy is scooped
later
the boy is found
nothing left but whispers for his family
the killer is a shadow
we are free to make our decisions
except when it comes to death
unless
unless you take your own life
and then of course
everyone says that you've made the wrong decision
i do not choose the knife that slits my throat
the bullet that rips through my chest
i do not aim the blow that brew my heart
i do not taste the poison
they are out there waiting
in the darkness
waiting
to make our decisions for us
Copyright © michael dennis / Ordinary Press 1982
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