A/N: I made this poem when I was feeling suicidal after mother disapointed me yet again. She always makes these promises and most of those promises get ruined.
Death, the endless fate of our morbid lifes,
Living fondly in the lie.
Don't tell me I'm suicidal,
You're the one living like Suey Sidle.
So live your life, full of whine,
I'll be dying with my wine.
Roses are red, Death is black,
Mind the darkness, which is black.
Die, die, die,
FUCK YOU AND YOUR LIFE!