More Poetry

I'm going to pretend there is deep meaning in this poem I wrote.

Now I must flee as one who is late to a meeting.     
As you sit here in prison, awaiting your death,
remember in the game of life, suicide is cheating.
You must not lose hope, even in your last breath.

Your luck is not good, but you cannot call it bad
It can be neither one since luck does not exist
It is your choice if you want to be happy or sad,
The choice is also yours, whether temptation you resist.

Consider if you will, the words of those who are wise
Do not ignore the teachings of those who have lived long
Neither should you judge their actions according to size
My final wish for you is to recall my wisdom in song.