Higher and higher I climb,

With death filtering through my mind.


I no longer have hope,

Only a really strong rope. 

I tie it around my neck, 

And give it a quick little check. 


told you I needed help, 

But you just stood there and yelped. 

You handed me the knife, 

And expected me to enjoy my life?!


Too little, too late

This problem isn't up for debate!


I take my last breath, 

I can't wait to meet death. 

This poem is about: 


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