Unfortunately, I am sick of being nice

People using me as their prey

to get something out of me, the

thought makes me quiver

and it injects a fair amount

of hate into my soul.

The only thing I want is to yell

at everyone and get away with it.

Unfortunately, I am sick of

being told what to do.

Every time someone gives me a task

it’s like my heart slowly turns into rust

and irritation fills my brain.

I would rather lie in my bed

watching Youtube on my phone

than be bothered at all.

Unfortunately, I am sick of

unfinished poems.

It makes me feel like I ran out

of imagination.

I would rather end this poem now,

so that my imagination can run on.

Unfortunately for you,

This poem is over.