11This morning I scorched my pancakes.
A meaningless mistake,
But what I could see
In those blackened cakes, three,
Was a reason to never again wake.
I wanted to end my existence
To continue was pointless to me.
My A.M. sustenance,
Like my life, went bust, and hence
Do you slash horizon, or vertically?
No beliefs, no relief, cavities in my teeth
Aesthetically challenged, point being
If I couldn’t make breakfast
Then my life was a wreck, rest
Was in suicide, the end of my feeling.
I ran the hot water into my tub
Climbed inside, plugged the toaster in next to me,
Set two slices to toast,
And got ready to roast,
The appliance would set my soul free
But before I could finish the job,
Golden toast popped up with a crunch.
I jumped out and ate my breakfast hastily,
Let me tell you that the toast was quite tasty.
Suicide would have to wait until lunch.