The Poem Says: (Written February 3, 2013)
Nobody likes me, nobody at all.
Seems little ole me is simply too small.
Too small in the minds, too small in the hearts
Of the fiendish cruel people who pick me apart.
They don’t want to read, but do cause they must,
Don’t care if I cry when they say I’m rushed.
What is wrong with all these things that I say?
To get them to like me, is there really a way?
They don’t appreciate a thing I say,
They do not realize the price I pay,
What’s their problem? Something wrong in their ears.
Why can’t they hear those sounds that I want them to hear?
Am I really worthless? So it would seems,
Being a favorite was really a dream,
In the end, truly, I’m simply too small,
For anyone to like me, anyone at all.
Aww, poor poem was sad. Or something. =P I wrote this yesterday when my mom suggested I enter one on my poems into a contest. My first thought was this. >.> I wonder what the judges would think of reading a poem like this? -.^