I've tried to rhyme,
Sometimes I took all my time.
But it never turned out right.
The words decide to take flight.

No matter how hard you try,
If you force it, words die.
Nothing left to waste,
After you've had a taste.

An addict of power,
The taste remaining is sour.
I sat and wrote all night,
Using a small lamp for sight.

I wrote the note that meant I was gone,
The people who read it let out a yawn.
Nobody in the world had cared,
And I was so scared.

I never meant to leave,
Upon that fateful eve.
Who's passing on my words,
Since I wasn't part of any 'herds'.

Whoever it is dared,
Because they cared,
Not because it was stupid,
Or they were "hit by Cupid".

Will you tell them to forgive me?
Please do that, so they'll see.
They'll know my story.
The one you never found boring.