See I am not pretty like those girls,
You know those ones you see on your gram.
I will never make it to the front cover of a magazine.
I am probably not your favourite person to talk to.
I could never be outgoing.
I am shy,
Recluse.
I can never start a conversation.
I understand I aint enough.
Probably why you left me in the first place.
I could never be enough.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry For The Broken
Poetrycollection of my written poetry if you are sad it might make you sadder
