"unlikeable" poems
You're a walking overreaction
When something doesn't go your way
You think it's everlasting
And when the heart inside your cold chest
Doesn't get a response
You blame it on unhappiness
I think it's over, all of those complaints
But when they start again
I wonder if you ever learned restraint
Sometimes it's easy
But most of the time
I can barely stand you speaking
You're still a child
Somewhere, out there
There must someone who likes your style
I'll bet they're crazy
It doesn't matter how hard you try
It ain't me
Can you believe it?
Somebody near you
Doesn't like it when you talk ****
Maybe you should try this
When a thought comes in your head
Don't just say it, maybe filter it
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 11:24 PM UTC
I only like you because you're my best friend.
If I didn't like you so much,
I'd hate your guts
because everything about you is so unlikeable
but you're my best friend,
so I kind of like you a lot.
Jan 12, 2012
Jan 12, 2012 at 5:40 PM UTC
He’s not like the others,
he’s not even a wholly likable child.
I mean, he has the cute face
high squeaky voice
chipmunk cheeks.
It’s his personality,
his attitude,
it’s the fact that he’s only 7 years old
and already hates the majority of what he’s seen of this wide world.
It’s the fact that he manipulates everyone’s words
until he’s made the collage that meets his ideal visage.
He’s more than a handful.
He’s even more than a whole village’s armful.
And though I know a part of its’ the diagnosis
it’s hard to keep that in mind
all the time.
(It’s hard to forgive an unlikable child)
Even harder as he swings insults your way,
as you have to take off running after him for the nth time this week.
It’s hard keeping a straight face,
keeping the unflappable demeanor
through every offense.
It’s hard not to scream,
curse,
cry,
to remain the calm island in the face of the raging tempest.
But you have to.
(Even though he’s not the most likable child)
He is still a child.
And you’re loving compassion is stronger than his self destruction.
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
i don't know why i liked you before.
you were arrogant, unlikeable.
though my feelings were short,
i still fully regret them.
you thought you were "all that"
smart, maybe even a nerd
but you were faking it.
you aren't anything.
nothing but an empty face
full of pretend
now when you speak
i look away.
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 4:23 PM UTC
If only you were some ill-conceived conceit:
unlikeable, unreal. cardboard cutout, replete
with evidence of failure, warning signs flashing by like
high-watt highway lights, and eyes so very unlike fullerite.
Your eyes were sharper than diamonds, and nowadays
they cut into me, but I can’t meet their gaze.
And you know what they say:
that everything looks perfect from far away,
and you look real perfect right now...
I smile at how stupid i sound.
This isn’t a love poem.
When i first met you, you were a whirlwind,
a new friend, an enigma, and every breath we drew
intermixed, condensed by winter’s tricks
till we were somewhat inseparable,
and every word we wrote hid
a smile, every step we took
towards each other bridged miles.
Well you’re less a whirlwind now,
and more an aftermath.
I want these words to reach you
and cut deep:
Love is a dance that takes two
and you broke my feet.
Oct 9, 2015
Oct 9, 2015 at 12:26 PM UTC
you're yappy
as a drooling
sack of dogs
and as happy
as a vietnam
bombing.
you're ******
as downtown
new orleans
pretentious
as banksy
unlikeable
as amy schumer
worn and round
as a linkin
park CD
and yet
you're lovely as
a dumb *****
could be.
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 4:26 AM UTC
She smiles because she's your go-to child
The one that gets all the praise
The one who accepts all your rage
Even as she's growing
You won't ever know it
Because hormones are bad
And mood-swings won't ever be had
Even though she hates it
She smiles as she fakes it
Her facade or innocence
Is quite actually painfully brilliant
She has everyone around her finger
Though the tightness of it always stings her
She smiles as she's called sweet
Kind and lovely
Smart and hardworking
Honest and trustworthy
Strong and preserving
Beautiful and genuine
Because she's not she's
Mean and unlikeable
Dumb and lazy
A liar and unhonest
Ugly and fake
But somehow no one sees
Her broken and horrid self
Through her sickly sweet
Kind and innocent
Full of joy and love
Fake facade
Mar 14, 2025
Mar 14, 2025 at 6:02 AM UTC
when i was younger,
afternoons meant screaming matches;
sorry, i mean screaming
lectures, maybe
or sessions
never matches-
we were never allowed to reply
or she'd scream louder and
louder.
i grew up ashamed.
ashamed of my body
ashamed of my personality
ashamed of my quirks and ticks
ashamed of what made me, me
i hated them.
i wanted to strip them away,
peel off my skin,
bleach my face,
burn my hands,
remove anything
that made me her target.
to this day, i still
hold out hope
that i may one day
stop hating myself.
crying was a weakness
unworthy of comfort
i have no memory
of being comforted
or held
just
alone
my pillow and my stuffed animals
for company
oh, how i longed to be held
just once
just for a moment,
someone to hold me up
when i couldn't breathe.
she used to tell us
the reason she screamed so loudly
was because she had tried, in the past
to speak softly.
apparently, we never listened.
i don't remember her
ever speaking evenly
i don't remember a day
without screams
(oh the screams)
filling the house, my mind
and even if she had tried so hard
to be quiet with us, and failed,
aren't mothers supposed to be patient,
even if the children do not listen?
i hated the way she would scream, yes
but more than that i hated
the way she would tower over me
face inches from mine,
eyes alight with what i could only
describe as
pure hatred
the image still haunts me
i'm still scared of her eyes, sometimes.
she gets so mad, sometimes.
i'm convinced she is not aware,
she does not remember
the things she says
when she is taking out her anger
on me.
a blind rage.
isn't that all i am?
an outlet for her anger?
the antagonist to her lead character?
the useless child she has to drive to school
for two more years?
will i ever be anything but
the result of years of anger?
the target of her mockery?
the recipient of her insults?
will i ever be more than
ugly
*****
disgusting
manipulative
evil
fat
stupid
dumb
uncaring
unloving
ungrateful
a monster
a brat
a demon
a pig
an animal
boring
antisocial
timid
unlikeable
unwanted?
i have only ever known her to be sharp
harsh
disgusted with anything i do
that's why it hurts
when she gives me brief hugs,
smiles,
tells me she only screams
because she loves me
because i know
her intentions are pure
if her actions
are knives slotted between
my ribs.
May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 7:38 PM UTC
why am i so unlikeable
why is everything i do a mistake
why do i feel so alone
why can't i be happy
why am i feeling sorry for myself
why can't i
why am i
why didn't i
why don't i
why won't i
why
why
why.
why do i continue to live this life.
- a.g.
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 1:04 PM UTC
Not the first thing to come to mind
Hidden in the back of your head,
A fragment of once passed,
I am almost forgotten.
Not that I ever knew much about
The touch of your breath or how it felt.
Stripped from presence, I only knew,
From a far what I felt and saw.
Day after day, every next day's the same.
You with your own, and me on my way.
Rarely, and not lately, our paths intersect.
And you, don't have a clue, that you live in my head.
Just so you know -
I don't mean to persuade, ****** flatter,
Or somehow try to appear to you and start to matter.
My image for you is of something greater.
It's just an unfeedable hunger,
An irresistible need, a longing,
And nothing other.
It's just that the thought of you
Brings a calm feeling and creates
An undisturbed peace and happiness in my mind,
Where I find solace, balance, help and a lending hand.
And on those rare moments where I glimpse in your life
I spend my day in joy,
Because I get to taste yours,
A second life, other than mine,
Sometimes, I am even jealous for what you have and are.
It's really nothing much, don't mind it all, at all.
You're just the highly unlikeable wish to happen to me.
That pumps in me together with the rhythm of my heart.
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 6:22 PM UTC
What do you want to think of?
Him?
Your best friend?
That one guy who never gave back your pencil?
Or do you want to think of yourself?
No, you say.
You let out a chuckle,
why would you want to think of yourself?
You're the most boring person you know.
Thinking of anyone else is easy.
Think of their jokes, their looks, or maybe how unlikeable they are.
They wouldn't even know if you thought it.
Be more positive, she said.
I'm getting bored of her ranting, he thought.
But did he really think that?
Or are you just making this up?
You wonder if other people feel like this.
No, no they wouldn't. They don't have a reason to!
They're so much better than you.
Do they know that?
What if they want to be like you?
What if they wanted to be like the person you hated the most?
Maybe everyone feels this way.
You're overreacting, you thought.
You know you're telling the truth.
You never lie to yourself.
Like the time you thought that you didn't need 3 meals.
Like that time you thought that they wouldn't care if you-
Just.
Nevermind.
You may think that this poem means something.
But it really doesn't.
I can say this with a cold voice, with no emotion.
This poem holds no emotion.
It's just a concept.
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 6:59 PM UTC
Yea? you wanna know what i feel?
I feel so unlikeable that i turn out ashamed of being me
ashamed of who i am and what im made of
it feels like i was never the girl you really liked in the first place
i never was once the girl of your interest.
I play makeups and clothes, not guitar and drumsticks
I love mellow music, not hard rock screamoes which u do like.
Were totally different in such million ways yet how did we found a love between a torn crack full of black and whites
Mar 21, 2017
Mar 21, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
A second worth of looking into those eyes
A second that changed my mind
I should spend the last weeks of summer
Here where hope seemed nowhere.
I might have not known you
If only you had not come out of that tinted glass door
With your eyes so beautiful and your smile so warm
Just like the way you said 'Hi' for the first time.
I knew I had to take the risk, change my mind
I should have not be here
If only I had not wanted to look into those eyes again
And know the guy who owned them.
I was watching you when no one seemed to care --
I noticed how true what they had told me about you,
I noticed your actions that were just so unlikeable .. But
I also noticed a hope flickering deep inside of you.
There's a lot of good things in you
I hoped you saw them too,
I hoped you would let others see them, there's so much more than what meets the eye
And you were beautiful.
I would never regret the way I changed my mind
Just so I could look the second, third, fourth,
No, I had looked at you a hundred times --
You were worth it, and you will turn out all right.
-- Criss ♡
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 9:55 PM UTC
since i was a little girl,
i've been a very good actress
earlier in life, i was a golden girl
way ahead than my peers, a shining over-achiever
good in being too much, too much unlikeable
in my teenage years,
i played the role of misery
with grey clouds hanging over my head
custom-made puddles beneath my feet
and hand-drawn cross-stitches on my left wrist
through the end of adolescence,
i starred in a star-crossed romance
in which i was a frustrating lover
the "always leaving others" lover
the "you will only understand my action when we're in our 40s" lover
now that i am a 2 years old adult,
i am acting like a lost child in a big playground
mind spiraling down the slide
shaky judgements on the see-saw
the fool climbing the monkey-bar
man, i am such a star...
Mar 24, 2024
Mar 24, 2024 at 10:09 AM UTC
Maybe I am unlikeable,
Even though nobody says anything to me;
They just glance,
And turn away.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 5:34 PM UTC
And when the demons,
From your unlikeable past;
Drink sodas and lemons,
With your present cast;
Know ye that time calls upon thee,
To make peace your cup of tea.
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 2:41 PM UTC
And when the demons,
From your unlikeable past;
Drink sodas and lemons,
With your present cast;
Know ye that time calls upon thee,
To make peace your cup of tea.
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 2:42 PM UTC
I want to be like her
She is such an inspiration
The way she talks and presents herself
Others, including I sometimes, sees her as put off
She admits this
She will never know that I see right through her
I feel as though I feel her emotions
As well as others, but one of hers the most
I want to know others as I know her
To know their flaws and struggles
To compare to mine and help them feel like they are flying, not drowning
Their anxiety puts them down
Oh how I hope it’s not as much as mine
Because to lift someone is to rise them up
No matter how far it pushes you down
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC
In a sudden whirlwind of emotion
I have to catch my breath.
My heart skips a beat and death is near.
A constant reflection of my mental state.
Unattainable.
Unlikeable.
Moody.
Despair.
Searching for home in random eyes.
Help me escape the world I’ve come to know.
I don’t live here anymore.
Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 10:21 PM UTC
She is only twenty-three, seven years younger than her brother. She is riding that motorbike late at night, aginst all fears. All she wants is to take her brother and mother to the most favorite place at night in Kandy. It was drizzling a little too by then.
She mixed up with the directions a little. They ended up heading to a place where a highly unlikeable bunch of people hanging out and accommodate. They were drinking. It wasn't a pleasant party. Some people are born so nasty, He thought to himself and reminded of the world's Victorian days. All praise the Queens, Science is new Victoria.
Life felt like a prolonged mystery.
Oct 2, 2020
Oct 2, 2020 at 10:41 PM UTC