You Can'T Take It

My poetry can be the best in this whole world, It can rhyme, it can shine, So young yet I can write so well, But look at you, What’s to be seen, Is that you need to come clean, Because my poetry seems to not be good enough, Because of what I write, The anger hate and frustration, You say it’s good but then you walk away, It’s the best you’ve ever read, But you don’t say, Because you can’t handle the truth, These words are too much, Because people won’t lies, They won’t to know life’s great, When I’d rather die and be eaten alive, And burn in hell scorching in flames, Then live another moment of life, But you can’t take it, You want lies to make life better, To know that “god” has done something right before, I thought poems were supposed to be your feeling on paper, Until life took a turn for the worst, And you had to lie too yourself to survive, So you can’t read my poems, You want stuff that is happy, If you do look for somebody with a happy life and terrible poems, Instead of a broken girl with angry, sad good poems.