No

(Found here)

No, not this time. I cannot celebrate

a man’s discarded life, and will not try;

these knee-jerk elegies perpetrate

Plath’s nightshade lies. Why should we glorify

descent into a solipsistic hell?

Stop. Softly curse the waste. Don’t elevate

his suffering to genius. Never tell

me he will live on. Never call it fate.

Attend the service. Mourn. Pray. Comfort those

he lacerated. Keep him in your heart,

but use that grief to teach. When you compose

a line, it is a message, not just art.

Be furious with me, but I refuse

to praise him. No, we have too much to lose.

~A. M. Juster