Suicide
SUICIDE This Razor! I can't let go. This razor took my joy, The spirit stood looking at the disgusting body, It became so dirty for my liking Even when I sort to return with tears My soul greatly fears the mortal. She lives In matrimony With my foe. Faster was I than my shadow And now my phantom wander In need of nonexistent help. And here in my hand A dagger that shies every keeper. It thirsts me to let go... But I can't tell why I can't I am aghast a day comes When the soul mender needs the soul And this razor shall be held accountable And the bearer hope of death. This rope! I never knew how symbolic it was Until my hallux hit the kid stool Then I turned pair The one who looks And the one who is looked. In the comfort of rope, I regretted, But the stool was so close that I could not lay my hands on it Then I saw the souls of those who died same way When I turned again to gaze As little as twine killed me. Why? I failed probation thrice With each causing 24 strokes. 72 ...