Non-existence is calling.
Sounds good to me.
To be erased.
To no longer be.

And if I try
to burn away
the remnants of the past.
The sweet catharsis I would feel
simply would not last.

A ticking time bomb:
destined to self-destruct.
And the promise of an end,
a sweet release,
has me hooked.

And if you saw me,
you would not be able to tell:
That every conscious thought
causes pain,
and every unconscious breath
causes hell.

And though I'm on the brink,
I think I hide it well.
But it can't last forever.
Nothing lasts forever
and my facade of deception
is certainly no exception.

But by the time it's clear,
it will be far too late.
My mind is filled with fear
of my mindless self-loathing,
and my inevitable
fate.

Non-existence keeps calling.
Sounds awfully good to me.
To finally have some peace.
To finally
be free.

The muddy dirt I walk on
Are the lies I've told.
*****, unashamed of the
Suicides in my head.
It's all been said.
All the moons are full tonight,
White with innocence.

The rain washes nothing away,
Only the surface lies.
They died there in that July night.
The night of my first suicide.

Enter date here.

The leaves on those trees are self
Sufficient, unlike most men.
The sons of God, the ******* of a
Society unwilling the see the
Lies I've,
we've told.
Say no more.
This is the death foretold.
The tree of death is here for you,
Unwilling to leave without your flesh.
This is the truest truth.

A death foretold.
A suicide, unashamed.

The death, in living, is here
For me,
For you,
For them,
For the *******.

The muddy dirt
That I walk on,
Paced only by the beat of the heart
I left on the moon all those years ago.

One pump.
Then another.
One more for show.
There's a joke in that.

He wasn’t a boy,
He was forty years old
But they called him boy;
A habit born of old
Bigotries and behaviors
Difficult to defend
But that doesn’t mean
They came to an end

The shoeshine boy
Mostly shined the shoes
And if anyone listened, he had
Good advice they could use.
But most read their papers
On the busy city street
And paid no attention
To the wisdom by their feet.

The people read the news
And ******* about things
And gave their confusion
Talkative wings.
One day a guy asked
Why do people do
The horrendously crazy
Things they seem to do?

The shoeshine boy looked up
And gave the man a smile
And said a pithy sentence
After a decent while.
He said it often,
Sometimes audibly,
“Most people die
Of plain stupidity.”

The fellow thought this wise
And shared it with his friends
And that’s how a catchphrase
Or idea ultimately begins.
It’s something that is simple
But makes a lot of sense
For those looking for answers
If they are not too dense.

Sometimes it’s the only answer
That seems to apply at all
When madness is afoot
And morality seems to fall;
When people waste money
On toys instead of their kids.
That is often how they take
A ride down to the skids.

If only they heeded the things
The shoeshine boy said,
They might have grown wiser
Fewer rocks inside their heads.
But instead they sided with
Maddening mediocrity
Never realizing most folks
Die of plain stupidity.