I'm going to try to write a poem,
but I'm not sure how it will go.
Every porous, every single gaping abyss; hope it flows.
I'm perched atop death row.
I hear the songs of crows.
I want to say the words "I Love You" to everyone that I have known.
The top will surely blow.
The dark side; it'll show.
This earth doesn't have a fucking clue what will soon unfold.
I can't do this alone,
For I lack a pure soul.
If life was sure to cease tonight, what standards would I hold?