There are pills
in my bathroom cupboard
that if taken
in sufficient quantity
will kill anything.

My doctor gave them to me
a few years ago
when I was depressed
and thinking the worst.

They are a loaded gun,
you know,
in easy tear open packaging.

I didn't kill myself,
mainly because the thought
of leaving that gift
to my son
to deal with
the rest of his life
was something
even I wasn't selfish enough
to pull off,

though I sure do understand
why others
don't have
such reservations.

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