People looked up to me
I looked down at them with a smile
I've never hated a single person
And I never thought that someone would hate me
I thought that I've always been nice
You didn't think so
You didn't like me
You pressed your poison covered lips onto mine
Infecting my entire body
You left without a trace
My smile, still there
The colors fade
The light blares
Even from 6-feet below
I will be smiling
Since I am the one who hated me, bringing me to die of poison
Self-love is a weed
That's why I'm dead
See, now your smile is gone
And you will be soon too.
My name is Alex, and I love to write.
But lately, it's all been boring.
Should I switch the scene from day to night?
Change the windows or the flooring?
Perhaps I need some sudden deaths,
Yes, that will do the trick!
When characters take their last breaths,
The reader is shocked real quick.
Katie and Sarah should be in a car crash.
Matthew will drown in a swim.
Pierre's set on fire and burned straight to ash,
No firefighter could save him.
Melissa should fall off a three-story roof,
With Simon caught below it.
This recipe is completely foolproof,
I'll get awards before I know it!
Autobiographies aren't very frequent,
But I'll get some money for the time I've spent.