His pen.
The pen clenched
in his shaking hand,
anxiously scribbling "it's never worth it."
the pen feet away,
watching,
as he ended his life.
an accomplice to my friend's end,
I hate this pen.

His gun.
the gun tempting his trembling hands,
complying with a demand.
this demand would be his last.
fire.
an accomplice to my friend's end,
I hate this gun.

My friend.
the friend whose last minutes of life
were spent solely in sadness.
the gun & pen so blinding,
he couldn't realize how missed he would be.
an impulsive decision,
one irreparable mistake.
all contributing to my friend's end,
I miss this friend.