|[ Dear Inspector, He Died. ]|

[Just a slightly random poem. And yes, I know it's rhyme scheme is kind of... fucked up.]

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It’s not an excuse
But an incrimination
It’ll bring you to your feet
And the hate of the nation
Ignore it all, and may
You rest in peace

Dear Inspector,
I’m not to blame
It was pressure, I say
He was murdered by shame
I saw it all, and how
He fought to be the best
Even through failure.

“It was never supposed
To dissolve his soul,
It was supposed
To make him stronger”
They say making up
They’re making alibis.

Dear Inspector,
I’m not to blame
It was pressure, I say
He was murdered by shame
I saw it all, and how
He fought to be the best
Even through failure.

I know and I’m sorry.
I didn’t think it’d hurt that bad.

I know and I’m sorry.
I didn’t think it’d hurt that bad.

Dear Inspector,
I’m not to blame
It was pressure, I say
He was murdered by shame
I saw it all, and how
He fought to be the best
Even through failure.
This isn’t how it should be.
I’ll end with…
Sincerely, Me