You might be filthy rich
Or even extremely poor...

I'm trying to write this poem
But I don't know where to start...

Please come home,
I miss you so...

I hope you're happy now,
I would have done anything...

In a room full of happiness
She sits so depressed...

Once every 18 minutes
Worldwide...

Curled in bed
For the rest of the night...

30 days without cutting,
30 days without pain...

Please don't hate me
I have indeed tried...

I look into the mirror
Scared of what I see...

Please God,
Take away her cancer...

I have my many lasts
As I sit her on the bed...