I swear to god These never make sense But that's just me Never making sense It's not a style It's just me I don't try hard enough I really never had Because what's the point in trying When you always think it's ****? This is all **** And I've accepted that There's not a point In getting my hopes up That I'll ever do something good enough For the world to look at and go: "Wow" "Cool" "That doesn't actually ****!" Because it does I already knew this I've known from the start That starting this Would bring out all of my thoughts The ones I try my hardest to avoid They're dangerous These thoughts They shouldn't be read But here I am Sharing them with you You poor soul Stop reading now Or you'll regret it Because I'll give you a reminder: It doesn't get any better You'll never get this moment back You spent this time Reading a ****** poem That doesn't even rhyme It doesn't even have a name