All those today who wake up,
and have a small headache,
and got a yelling at work,
so are feeling a bit shitty,
and decide they have depression,
please go and die.

Go hug a live wire, lie down under a tire,
or shove your head inside an oven.
Eat beef in North India,
or be a minority in North India,
or go ask a bull for some lovin’.

All those who make every problem,
sound like one of their own,
and call attention to themselves,
because they apparently have,
every disease and misfortune under the sun,
please go and die.

Make a bullet pass through your skull,
drawing a valley through your brain.
Be gay in North India,
hate The Lotus in North India,
or play bass guitar, you’ll die of shame.

Those who can make two words rhyme,
like mug and rug, or die and fly,
and then call themselves poets,
writing pretentious poetry
and calling it “philosophical”
trying too hard to be cool,
please go and die.

Hang yourself with your shoelace,
or look at your own face
(you’ll die of sheer fear).
Insult Sherlock on Tumblr,
or wake a teenager from his slumber,
or drive a car off a highway in fifth gear.


6 thoughts on “Please Die

  1. I love this so very much!!! This is so apt and deserves to be read by everyone. I’ve always hated it when people use certain words in the wrong places for the wrong reasons. When people label themselves as depressed just because of a day of sadness with a valid reason, when they say they’re having an anxiety attack when all they’re feeling is a bit woozy before going on stage. And for some strange reason or maybe a valid reason I am still not to comfortable calling myself a poet because I still don’t consider myself worthy of that title. Anyways, great work and on point.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’m glad and this does count especially for someone like me who is frequently very insecure of their poetic abilities. This made my day too ❤


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