Terminal Disease

		My poetry is failing,
		My life in this world 
		No longer holds my interest,
		I have no desire to express it.
	
		Life I see,
		He happens around me,
		I don't think he ever really liked me,
		And now he seems to have perfected ignorance.
		I can hardly recall the meaning of the word 'social',
		She's failed each time she's tried to happen to me,
		She's given up.

		I do not wish to express
		Anything that is left in this world:
		My poetry is dead,
		Quod Erat Demonstrandum:
		I am dead.