A little bit of wood,
a little bit of poison,
a little dash of grass,
a little sprinkle of medicine.
Daintily wrapped,
in a fragile piece of paper.
A potent core within a shell,
as light as a feather.
Strike a match and burn,
her end with mirth and anger,
and watch the stick release,
her final breath with grief.

Goodbye, goodbye, the stick crumbles.
Embrace her, be sincere,
even if you’d find another after,
this is her end.
Her one and only chance.