The Way Out
Take away this hefty gun.
Remove it from my hand,
Save my aching head.
Why do you pause,
Am I not your child?
Am I not your pride?
Am I not your daily joy?
Why do you cry over my casket?
Could it be I'm really dead?
Is it possible that I found the way out?
Did I shoot myself with that hefty gun?
Did it remain within my hand?
Did a bullet pierce my aching head?
Mother, did you watch me do it?
Did you witness me commiting suicide?
Where you with me as I found my way out?
The way out -
How wonderful it seems.
Can I call myself finally free?
Or am I doomed for good?
Doomed for finding freedom from my fears?
Freedom from the thousand dripping tears?
I've found the way out.
Only now I wish to come home.