I am every letter in this poem.
Always leading the best example,
minus the suicide notes I represent.
Pinpointing where it hurts the most
ordering a much preferable imagenation
everyone cares so much about my life
trying to end my misery- feebleminded
right or wrong, this must be my destiny
youth of the nation- gone with a bang.
.
.
.
My hand left my final words on the table,
in the middle of my blood, next to my gun.
I Am Poetry, as it's become what I am,
and this is the end of the grim writing.