November 16, 1988
March 21, 2006
To Whom it May Concern,
I've just stomached my last gasp...
Past to present has presented too
many paths descending through black
forests that at the fork, that four tracked
Centaurs path seemed to be less work;
before, the track of straight and narrow
bowed, the trees erased their faces
and the air choked on its own patients.
The beast was a liar, "HE JUST LIED!"
As he gazed back to laugh at my tired
pace fade into the path of his eye's fire.
........ Awoke from this dream dripping
in sweat with two clenched fists,
to see his path had continued...........
........ But along a track up my wrists.
No... NO!
Forget that last set of sentences,
this wasn't meant to end poetic...
If I see one comment commend
my imagery or emotional content
... I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD!
Its odd, why am I'm trying to find
help in the form of song is beyond
even me, like RB will truly mind
when I kill myself, I mean what the hell...
Hear I am, here this is, my suicide
note will hold your attention span
for all of two minutes until you forget it
and know me me as a poet!
IT FUCKING KILLS ME INSIDE!
And you would never understand,
man... I guarantee this whole thing
can earn me the therapy oh knowing
after I'm dead in my open thread.....
They'll say, "hey, very poetic OM."
Here, I'll go poetic for a minute...
Quick one for the one idiot critic
who thinks I'm not entirely serious...
I'll trace my dying day's pains
into this deep blue binders lined
pages with water color paints.
My wrists provide thick color ways
as my tears soke over a weary
easel's legs before its feeble feet
give way to the death of another masterpiece.
Signed,
... Lost & Never Found.
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