A Madman's Tale

To live from day to day is just a coward's way, 
When hopes begin to fall, the time has come to end it all. 
For should your life become a bore, when waking means just one day more, 
Of treasured hopes that tripping fall, like shattered glass against the wall, 
The time has come to end it all. 

Should bank accounts be getting low, and landlords order you to go, 
Evicted into winter snow and forced to live in old skid row, 
With falling plaster, filth and rats, at night the sound of screeching bats, 
No faithful friends to ever call, when liquor brings no help at all, 
The time has come to end it all. 

Jump off a cliff this very day, “Poor wretched soul,” they all will say, 
But vainly seek the fated hill that suited for your final spill. 
This one's too high and that's too low, ( a river rushes by below ) 
Now jumping's fine but drowning too, then fear of heights takes hold of you. 
You'd likely catch your your death of cold, in struggling against the river's hold. 

Far safer from your window sill to calmly jump steadfast of will. 
But leaping in a gust of air, you fall and hardly muss your hair. 
Then while you on the pavement sprawl, a dog comes by and does his all. 

Your second attempt is more carefully planned, you hold the gun steadily in your left hand, 
But being right handed, what do you suppose, you pull back the trigger and shoot off your nose 
You fill the tub and stepping in, grasp the socket the light was in. 
Yet death again eludes your will, you forgot to pay the electric bill. 

Oh miserable soul of all sanity spent, the public forever must now pay your rent, 
Destined till death to gaze into the skies, through iron bars with maddened eyes.

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