I'm so insecure, And thinking this way is not mature. I hate all the poems I write And I never think I'm right. I hate the way I look And I hate all the things I cook. I might as well die Than lie About my ego And I feel like stepping on a Lego. And on one likes me at school And I'm not at all cool, And I'm such a fool. I'm not smart, I don't show my heart, I never created art. I'm so insecure, At this point, It's like a mental illness with no cure.