Denim
His hand grip around the knife
The handle digs, his fingers tight.
The beat of his heart, like a drum
Pounding… His body numb.
He looses grip, drops the knife
Slowly it rolls, straight out of sight.
He reaches for the rope, ties a knot
Around that neck, the world forgot.
All his life waiting to kick the chair
Now’s the time, hes finally there.
He never even spared a thought
For the pain his death had bought.
Those who loved him, cared the most
Will forever hold him close.
Samie 
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