An Awful Poem

What’s the point of having a heart

If it’s gonna be torn apart?

My heart had soared

And now they’ve grown far too bored

With me

I cried for days

I set my house ablaze

How could they do this to me?

The pain stung like a bee

A bee that was stinging me

Ouch, ouch, it’s stinging me

Ouch, ouch, why?

Oh no, I am cry

My broken soul

Is in a broken dollar-store bowl

It is slimy

And grimy

Like noodles

Oh boy, I have oodles

Of sadness

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