Soon you'll see my picture in the Obituary section of the Paper.
If things don't get any better.
Death is a gift to the miserable man.
I wish God would take me out, and he'd put my soul in his hands.
Nobody would care anyway.
If I were to pass away.
I'll commit suicide soon if things don't get better.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem