Attempt at poetry

As the sun rises I die. Everyday my heart stops beating and my spirit leaves a husk of humanity behind. I was 18 when I first died. I have died everyday since for 100 years. I've had lovers who lived for my death. I've had sweethearts who hid from it. Eventually all take their final breath. Some beg me to give them the gift. Some have told me they would never want it. Neither were the outcome I wanted. I have created none like me. I can not fathom the responsibility attached of teaching what equates to a newborn how to live. I can barely keep myself alive. No one stuck around to teach me what to do. I was left with a letter and a hope that I'd actually believe it. I didn't but luckily I wasn't damaged badly. However that injury left scars not only on my body but on my soul.

I hope you have enjoyed my little poem. Have a nice day.