Would they?

I bask in dreams of suicide
Fantasize about the gravestone at my head
Envisage that future time
When I am finally dead

I indulge in dreams of felo de se
Visualizing a death of my own
Imagining the life leaving me
As I lie dying all alone

A sick and twisted pastime
Im sure you will agree
But what would you know?
I just want to be free

Many times I have caught myself
Dreaming of that fateful day
What would people say I wonder
If they knew I felt this way?

Would they care?
Would they cry?
Would they sob?
Would they die?
Would they feel guilt?
Would they feel regret?
Would they feel wrong?
For the cruel things they said?

And now, as I lift the razor
To my throat
A sick smile on my lips
Thinking of the forthcoming blood
Destined to pour down my neck
Dripping down my chest
Pooling on the floor as I fall
The last thought that flits through my mind
Is, How lucky are the dead?