Perfected Porcelain Doll

I thought i would die by 28

how did I make it to 29

always kept a shot in the revolver

although I never crossed the line

there was many a time

my life was saved by a rhyme

moment by moment

until the next try

always smiling

but inside dying

always pushing forward

I was always trying

but now I'm tired

so I lay my head to rest

finally used the revolver

a stunning success

a flash and it was over

my tormented soul

all the demons fighting

finally took its toll

In the church chapel

here I lay

white as a ghost

blank eyes

like a perfected porcelain doll

Signed... The Dreamer