Ugly things, they crawl in crawl in creeping,
Rotting, clotting, slowly reeping,
I see myself in a corner crying,
Cutting my skin, slowly dieing,
I think about things come and gone,
Things that always turned out wrong,
Now I listen to my breath,
And welcome the sweet scent of death,
For wat am I? No noble steed,
It is me the world does not need,
It shuns me and shuts me out,
So all I do is cuss and shout,
Walk into a room so dark,
Filled with dreams, no smart remark,
I sit down, inside a chair,
Ugly thoughts under my hair,
I think to myself, an ugly thought,
How bad to think, but others not,
Suicide Is my one true love,
One true gift from up above,
I load the bullet in the chamber,
A life that's filled with so much anger,
A life built upon depression,
My suicide will be a succession,
In my dark black room aside,
My empty thoughts do not abide,
I look into my ugly past,
And a breath, I take my last,
I look into my one loves eye,
That love is telling me to die,
In a ditch, in a plane,
My thoughts on death do not wane,
For my life is not worth living,
In my life, there is no giving,
To my surprise, I see a face,
One with which, unders a lace,
Tied with brutal strength and cunning,
I pray on me, my death is coming,
But that one true face, with the lace,
The knot is true, now say adeu,
For it is a hangmans noose,
Always tight and never loose,
It is such a simple thing,
For with it, your insides wring,
I cry myself some silent tears,
So much depression, over the years,
Absent through this is one true lie,
Might as well, drop and die,
So I go to one true place,
To buy lead and a barrel of space,
Buy nine pounds, each one diameter,
Write it down, inside your planner,
Put nine pounds inside my head,
I kno the world want me dead,
Up in blood, I start couphin,
I live inside a bolted coffin,
Do not open the forever lid,
For my head, there is no bid,
Everyone laughs, no one cries,
No one chants, everyone lies,
So now I pull it off my shelf,
Thinking worthless is myself,
I pull out my blue steel,
No one knows how I feel,
But really, who cares, it does not matter,
For it is just my dreams u shatter
Crying in an empty room,
The last thing I hear is a boom,
Swallowed into the pitts of hell,
My suicide was done well,
Neither a rope, steel, or injection,
My suicide is a huge succession,
Under water, over hills,
Swallowing those big blue pills,
I look into my one loves heart,
Suicide is a true art,
I will kill, blood aspew,
Do not worry, it isn't u,
For I am talking in third person,
The second amendment in the constitution,
One to bear metal fire,
Not intended to retire,
But intended for eternal use,
It does not deal, but takes abuse,
Inside the chamber, and out the end,
It's hatred for life will not rend,
Some forgiveness for life is lent,
Their life long story will not be spent,
But I choose to pay my deed,
It is my the world does not need,
I pull the trigger, now I'm done,
For none really care, about this one.