The Gun

the gun is loaded like my head,

It's fire like my attitude,

It brings peace and pain at the sametime,

like I do at certain times.

I dream to get away,

like putting the gun up,

My life falls into shambles, like when the gun cocks back.

I try to regain my sanity.

I breathe hard blows out,

Like how the gun blows smoke,

I hope I don't choke,

Like the finger on the trigger.

I look at the gun like it's my life,

The gun resembles me,

But it doesn't control me at all,

sometimes it acts like my life, sometimes

I act like it. But it will never hurt me.

I own it,

The gun.