The day I died 

This poem is about the day that I died,
That entire morning I had cried,
I wondered why I felt sadness and depression,
I also wondered about my aggression,
I wanted to go kill everyone in sight,
Or die courageously in a gunfight,
I wanted to be famous, I could hardly wait,
I guess that just wasn't going to be my fate,
Fate is shaped by us all, or so they say,
God's already written our biography, so there's no way,
About noon, I went for a cruise,
Right after, I drank a lot of booze.
I was drunk, driving, depressed, and knocking on death's door,
For I was thinking of suicide even more than before,
It felt like a good day to say goodbye,
I was going to kill myself, and this time it wasn't a lie,
I went home to send an email to everyone I knew,
Letting then know I was killing myself because I was blue,
After I was done emailing them, I had to decide,
Where and how I was going to commit suicide,
Slit wrists, bleach and ammonia, or drown,
Which would leave my face with a frown,
Bleach and ammonia, now where do I dare,
In public? In private? I didn't really care,
I finally chose to do it in my home,
Then I realized I hadn't finished "My Final Poem,"
I finished finally about four,
I realized my friends would see me no more,
I grabbed the bleach and ammonia, and set them on the floor,
Just then, there was a knock at my door,
It was my friend, he got the email, and wanted to say,
He was there for me, it didn't hae to end that way,
I said he was wrong, so he took me for a ride,
He wanted to talk, so I had to swallow my pride,
I told him how I felt I could do no good,
And how few could save me, but never would,
I was just getting ready to give him the list of the few,
We hit a tree, there was nothing I could do,
He slowly bled to death, after hitting the dash,
Head split right open, and he couldn't last,
If we ould have talked in my home, he wouldn't be dead,
If he would have lived, I would have been less messed up in the head,
I wondered why it was him and not me that died,
I went home, grabbed a pillow, and cried,
I grabbed the bleach and ammonia, as my tears ran dry,
I heard the Grim Reaper singing me his own lullaby,
I mix the two together, a little before ten,
By ten, I was asleep, and I had seen The End!