And these fantastic scaffolds of words

Who will ever read them

Who will understand, and in the end

What purpose do they serve

If they even deserve my nerve

Here's my farewell

Suicidal note written with chatgpt

My decree

With no pathos, no anger, nor despair

Tension at seams is rare

There is no poetry in this rhyme

There is no hiatus - or oxymoron

Nor energy in this chaos that torments this moron

Depression is a thrill while you're in it

As long as the target of your jokes is you

But then arrive a few

The confessions and revelations

That a lucky bunch of friends will listen as a migations

And here's the kicker, when you're left alone

With your 15 minutes of glory and an epic high for sharing your weakness with pride

That leaves you with a hole inside as big as the mariana trench

Because there's nothing more to do

Because that void you filled with the nonsense flowing from your stream of consciousness, you decided yourself to let it surface again

Give back the anger and the awkward things I've said to you

Undo my thoughts and give me back that deeper sense of truth

That simple feeling of discomfort, inadequacy without any reasons, that you can wash with a drink or two

And here it comes, as if by magic

Salvation, hope around the corner

A bummer, a fantastic crisis, a thing that tears your heart apart

Just when you needed to write some art

Something like a stab in the back

All you were waiting for

A cat clinging to your balls

Terrible, but very practical if the goals

Are writings with some passion

And so you can pour your pain into poetry

A bottle of poison, made of paper and ink

That will drive your night nuts without a blink

So you can put in a place those things you think more and more

Give back the anger and the awkward things I've said to you

Undo my thoughts and give me back that deeper sense of truth

That simple feeling of discomfort, inadequacy without any reasons, that you can wash with a drink or two.