People looked up to me

I looked down at them with a smile

I've never hated a single person

And I never thought that someone would hate me

I thought that I've always been nice

You didn't think so

You didn't like me

You pressed your poison covered lips onto mine

Infecting my entire body

You left without a trace

My smile, still there

The colors fade

The light blares

Sounds slow

Even from 6-feet below

I will be smiling

Since I am the one who hated me, bringing me to die of poison

Self-love is a weed

A toxin

That's why I'm dead

See, now your smile is gone

And you will be soon too.

My name is Alex, and I love to write.

But lately, it's all been boring.

Should I switch the scene from day to night?

Change the windows or the flooring?

Perhaps I need some sudden deaths,

Yes, that will do the trick!

When characters take their last breaths,

The reader is shocked real quick.

Katie and Sarah should be in a car crash.

Matthew will drown in a swim.

Pierre's set on fire and burned straight to ash,

No firefighter could save him.

Melissa should fall off a three-story roof,

With Simon caught below it.

This recipe is completely foolproof,

I'll get awards before I know it!

Autobiographies aren't very frequent,

But I'll get some money for the time I've spent.