suicidal rhymes

my life's gone to waste,
sped right by me
and i've developed a taste
for melancholy.
a row of faces of foes and of friends
smile, sneer or cry;
silhouettes waving their hands
pass my inner eye.

good needs repeating. wrong calls for righting.
they sure are a-changing, the times
but all i do is sit here writing
suicidal rhymes.

the world's gone to waste
so rapidly
and i've developed a taste
for apathy.
a row of faces, people never met
cry silent cries
but i haven't taken note yet
of pleas in their eyes.

quite certainly now would make a good start.
they sure need some changing, these times,
yet all i do is keep pouring my heart
in suicidal rhymes.