We give each others hands a shake
And sob until the tears make
The only other sound’s the break
Of distant waves and birds awake
The suicidal ideation deep
But we have promises to keep
Until then we must not sleep
For we’ll be in bed with tear ducts that weep
We will rise from our lonely bed
With thoughts of sadness in our head,
We idolise being dead.
Facing the day with hopeful dread.