These words that I write
The poems I make
They come from a lie
Like laughter I fake

Did that sound just right?
My grammar's ok?
The simile's in place?
I'm feeling afraid

I get so much praise
"Your poetry's great!"
Well thanks, but I'm sure
That it's just second-rate

I write what I feel
I feel much inside
My insides are death,
Corrupt as my mind

I hate all my thoughts
The words in my head
They strip me of life
And leave me for dead

The words that I think
Translate into fear
I'll spit them right out
And leave them right here