You told me a story
Of mass destruction,
Then romanced the idea
Of self destruction.
You told me of a world
Filled with corruption,
Then added sugar to the taste
Of self corruption.
You told me of a people
Wrapped in infliction,
Then taught me the ways
Of self infliction.
You told me of a home
Trapped in desolation,
Then brought beauty to the thought
Of self desolation.
You told me of a family
Held back by ruination,
Then offered me a handful
Of self ruination.
So when you told me of a killer
And his tools for termination,
You suggested a simple gun:
Self termination.
A suicide note I wrote years back in the early days of high school. No further comments.