Dorothy weighed options
Each worse than the last,

Sylvia saw boxes
So she turned up the gas.

Edna melted her candles,
Fell down the stairs in the dark.

Anne wrote fairy tales
But it wasn’t a lark.

Ginny’s in the river,
Having gone for a swim.

Sara thought she’d forgotten,
But the rain did her in.

Me? I’m a madwoman
Trapped in my own attic

Wondering if I ought
Not be so dramatic.