Dess had been taught to live her life fully

But with no rush, with no hurry:

“Don't see the world, watch it closely.

It takes some time to know it truly.”

For fifteen years Dess honored this creed

And learned to observe as her parents did.

But in the end it was too much to take

And her savant heart was about to break.

“We die as we lived” her father said

And she knew for sure she wanted to be dead.

So she made her choice and then pushed the door

Of the now famous “suicide store”.

Sadly the storekeeper was not surprised to see her entering,

And a look to her face told him she had been crying.

Dess approached the desk, watched him in the eye

And whispered: “Please sir, help me die.”

As he remained quiet, Dess pulled herself together:

“Have you got anything slow and painful, sir ?”

Her life had been vivid and wisely lazy

And so her death would be.

But the storekeeper knew better than giving her what she thought she wanted

For seeing the world as it is would one day make her enchanted.

So he took a deep breath and replied, acting cold:

“Yeah, young lady: growing old”.

_____

I need help! I really want to make something out of this suicide thing, but I'm not a poet, and... well, I'm French, kinda speaks for itself x')