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.