I ask to be, or not to be.

That is the question, I ask of me.

This sullied life, it makes me shudder.

My uncle's boffing dear, sweet mother.

Would I, could I take my life?

Could I, should I, end this strife?

Should I jump out of a plane?

Or throw myself before a train?

Should I from a cliff just leap?

Could I put myself to sleep?

Shoot myself, or take some poison?

Maybe try self-immolition?

To shudder off this mortal coil,

I could stab myself with a fencing foil.

Slash my wrists while in the bath?

Would it end my angst and wrath?

To sleep, to dream, now there's the rub.

I could drop a toaster in my tub.

Would all be glad, if I were dead?

Could I perhaps kill them instead?

This line of thought takes consideration -