I’m here to serenade you with the letters,
I’ve written as you recently requested.
The fuzzy line between you and me,
just went quantum with what you be-quested.
I know it’s that bad and I’ve been there myself,
many times before in another life full of strife.
The end is not the answer we’re searching for now,
until fully experiencing the roller coaster of this life.
I know you were expecting only one for you,
mine must come as quite a pleasant surprise.
It wrote itself to the music as I wrote yours,
two little suicide notes dancing in reprise.
I know you wouldn’t do it because you’re not through yet,
with yourself or me until you let you want too be.
I can’t let you in good conscious do yourself this way,
you even had me write the note that blames your death on me.
Whatever the reason time or place you come to the very end,
it is going to be in the cradle of my arms or not or ever at all.
If you throw yourself or jump off of this very steep cliff,
I’m going to jump after and catch you before the end of our fall.
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dead beat poet 