I ask to be or not to be.
That is the question I ask of me.
This sullied life, it makes me shudder.
My uncle's boffing dear sweet mother.

Would I, could I take my life?
Could I, should I end this strife?
Should I jump out of a plane?
Or throw myself before a train?

Should I from a cliff just leap?
Could I put myself to sleep?
Shoot myself or take some poison?
Maybe try self immolation?

To shudder off this mortal coil,
I could stab myself with a fencing foil.
Slash my wrists while in the bath?
Would it end my angst and wrath?

To sleep, to dream, now there's the rub.
I could drop a toaster in my tub.
Would all be glad if I were dead?
Could I perhaps kill them instead?

This line of thought takes consideration --
For I'm the king of procrastination.

-author unknown-