Felo-de-se
I was gonna write my suicide note
But I couldn’t find a pen,
Should I just put it off then?
Thoughts darker than your deeds
I can’t escape these beasts
Perhaps I’ll find a pencil instead
Either way, I’ll make sure I’m dead.
Swinging from a wooden beam,
Or face down in a cold stream,
As long as it’s not another dream.
I like to think you’d despair,
Even though I’m in disrepair.
Alas, I don’t imagine anybody will care.
On the off chance you’re upset,
Remember that I was just a pest,
An annoyance to life at best.
It’s time for me to finally rest.
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