n0t a waste 0f space.

a poem about what

I can't write poetry but I'll try.

And words do hurt me but I'll hide.

Don't know my purpose, or if it matters why,

but in the end, we all die.

I write songs but I can't sing.

I feel so lost but my life looks clean.

And you'll hold on to my poetry,

Oh wait nevermind, that's silly of me.

I love the stars but I'm scared of space.

If this weren't in pen, it'd be erased.

And I'm sorry for the things I say

I talk but words can't fill their place.

I'll end this poem, for I've said too much.

I'm not okay, but please don't fuss.

I'm insecure, pay attention to me,

I take it back, just leave me be.