You will ask me to stop
But I will take the drop
You have always ignored me
Now I'm close to death and you see
So many ways I could've died
So many ways I wouldn't have to try
Death to me would be easy
You never noticed you were to busy
The floor so close you so far
I will soon be a bloody star
Your fault not mine
I am dead, never to be fine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem