On the twelfth day
You gave up
Put up
The needle
While you listen to the Beetles
Lonely People
Aren't we all
Instead of seeking help
You were seeking sleep
So you jumped off the steeple
No one noticed
Now your one true love
Laid a single
Lotus
On your casket
Along with a basket
Full of love poems
Now he loses
Himself
In a Jeroboam
No one can help
So like you
He gets out his belt
Puts it around
His arm
Then with a fierce yelp
He puts that needle in his arm
Then the darkness surrounds him
With a grim sound he falls into an abyss
Of darkness
The lights dim
Success gone
This mess
Is addressed to those
Who press that knife
Onto their wrists
Not knowing the risk
Of hurting that one person
Thinking with the painless death
The situation will not worsen
But it does
Cause the blood
Never stops
This blood causes a flood
Of tears
And the years pass by
Everyone forgets
That fateful night
When it was half past twelve
On the twelfth day
Of the twelfth month
 
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