Give me something that packs a punch.
Late in the morning,
While the skies are pouring.
I’ll need not bother with lunch.
Dinner will be too late,
I will have suffered my calculated fate. To
Hell with fentanyl with all
The hype.
No, I’ve done my research that will end this
Horrible life’s awful tasting tripe.
Carfentanil has been my bought to kill.
My ending game thrill,
Just my carefully chosen fatal quick type.
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