why is it that i have to thing the way i do?
when i think i happen to think of you.
but why why am i the way i am?
i hate the way i am.
i hate it!
from it i dont benifit,
but i must admit,
i do hate it!

i hate my looks
i hate my mind

i cant stand the way i think
i cant stand the way i talk

of course youve hear this a million times.
because no girl likes her looks,
those stupid magazines make us feel bad.
but i dont feel bad because of that.
i feel bad because i am your friend and nothing more.

i write when im happy,
and when im sad.
well right now im doing this because im mad.

sometimes i rhyme
and sometimes i dont.
but no one can tell me im right or wrong.
because this is my poem,
and it shall go how i want it to.
i dont care if it wont flow like it should.

i dont care if it sucks.
i dont care if its great.

illl use my words.
i write how i want.
big deal if it rhymes.

as long as its read im fine with it.

but stil.
why is this the way i vent?
why are you only a friend and nothing more?
i dont know if you read this,
i dont know if you didnt.
 
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