This is not a nice poem.

Teen angst.

I heard you slit your wrist and bragged about it.
One time found your self esteem
and on the same day drowned it.
Recite Shakespeare for the melancholy
Don't confess to loving twilight, because your sorry
that you don't have any better taste.
Call your whole life a waste,
but still confess your torment on the net.
Poetry that gets stale, after the first couplet.
Misery and heartbreak, we've all heard before.
Recycled song lyrics and metaphors.
Verses that get stuck in your head and sound like the mainstream lame.
(And) every night you fold your hands and pray for fame.
Just suck my dick and get over it.
Cause you're in my way you retard nitwit.
That gold star is mine, you lame fat hoe
Forget your teen angst and stop stealing my show.
Yes, I know what your thinking, did I have to be so mean.
Do I have to rag on the artistic merits of a simple teen.
Must I steep so low to get some attention.
Well just look at what she wrote, convince me of my misapprehension.