That's me in the corner, that's me in the spotlight losing my religion

So I get it, we all get it: you know, that you’re deep and shit. You have this emotional side. Sticks and stones break your bones and words really hurt you. Listen save it, save your wanna be Emily Dickinson and that trite haiku; you’re no Shakespeare – people won’t be reading your sonnets for years to come. In fact the only person who will is you, who will in turn 20 years, 15 years, 10 years from now (time depending on whether or not you get smarter) you’ll reread it and think, “Wow! I was a douche” and call others to review your idiocy.

Yeah life is rough and the world can be cruel and unfair:
So your rejected from Paige Parks, Barbizon or some other “advertised in the local mall” model agency,

Say the guy you were casually seeing (that you were more into than he you, cuz you were just his rebound) has stopped giving you the time of day and maybe wishes he had a restraining order against you,

So what if your cheap attempt at getting attention: lack of real pants outfit consisting of chach visible tights and tshirt w/o a bra didn’t reel in any looks from anyone besides creep rapists and others hard core judging you…

Not everything needs a response via poem on FACEBOOK – fool get a journal, (get some real pants or better yet self esteem). Keep that shit to yourself. The next time you think about putting a poem on facebook, try publishing it first. Here’s the thing if you don’t get it published, it’s not good – meaning there’s no audience for your uninteresting self-centered pre-teen drama vent; this is your indicator alerting you “DON’T PUT THAT ON FACEBOOK”

Men are from mars, women are from venus
Stop your titty baby crying, “nothing can come between us..”
You write as you cry – people comment “you’re deep..”,
(pst they’re all telling a lie).
On an on you go
I think of you always and not in just small ways ;)
I want us to be more
C’mon, we’re something worth fighting for.
Creating your rhymes, wasting all that precious time
Flipping through your thesaurus, stealing words from a songs’ chorus
When really? It’s all just going to bore us.

As much as I encourage expressing your feelings and am a definite advocate of the arts, facebook is not amateur night at the Apollo, it’s not open mic night, no one’s reading your poem holding a lighter up in the background – this isn’t your creative writing class so save it cuz you look like an ASS.

You realize all this can accomplish is putting yourself on a social blacklist. Facebook is public and not only can you and your poem loving followers read your post but so can everyone else and we just laugh. You fuel our conversation for months and months to come, you’re the butt of the joke and the origin of many inside jokes. We talk about you at parties and before you know it your story is added to their repertoire. OH and also shame, shame! Don’t tag the attention of your misery in your little limerick – if you have something to say call them and have the conversation. Your poem is passive aggressive and quite frankly the activities of 13 year old 1st heart crushed sweetheart. Take your disappointments with more pride and even if that’s not an option there’s still no need to broadcast you’re a hot shitty mess.

Roses are red,
Violets are blue
This is the slut
Trying to change you!