A flawless day, not a cloud in the sky,
The sun warms the open fields with its rays of light,
That's all on the outside,
The outside is always in order while the inside is a wreck.
Nothing could have pointed to what the inside held,
A bright room, tidied up for the occasion,
Only I was home,
A note lying on my desk next to the gun,
I put on my church clothes for that day.
Half an hour before they come home,
I walk to the middle of the room, gun in hand.
In an instant, twenty years are meaningless,
The shot shook the house,
Soft music playing, yet silence overwhelms the room.
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