Sinicide

Alexander Knight

Sinicide

Often, when your hands are still,

You like to kill yourself.

Not with guns, or height, or rope,

You just use your sins and stuff.

Oft’ you’ll grab your sharpened sin

And press it ‘cross your wrist

Two, three times, and then you’ll sit

‘Til all your soul is pissed.

A bottle of some small sins,

A glass full of water.

You swallow them much easier

Than the good Lord’s ardor.

Your heavy, pale black 12-gauge

You load with one big sin.

You cock before you raise it,

Clench tight, and slam the pin.

A lesson you must learn from this

(Just see past all your lying):

When you sin to feel alive

What you really feel is dying.

June 29, 2007