My Macbeth

All this strife,
from one knife,
can end a life.

All the pain,
go insane,
ends in cocaine.

Watch he rope swing,
and cling,
leaving a bloody ring.

Watch the gun,
no longer a run,
his life is done.

Poked with a stud,
see the blood,
turn into a flood.

Last breath,
wishing for death,
this story ends just like Macbeth.