CUTTERS not really a poem, just a statement

When you’re my age and you look back
At all the little cuts you have upon your arm;
Then maybe you will realize how pretty
F(u)cking dumb you actually were.
You might laugh, or you might get even
More depressed, really I don’t care.
It’s your life, if you want to take it then
Go ahead you are nobody to me.
So why should I care about you?
Listen to me all you “cutters” out their
You say I wasn’t there and I have no idea
What it’s like, Hello I was a depressed
Teenager too. I have the scars on my arm,
I have the hate that you do too.
ONLY
I grew up and put some merdrema upon them.
Let them go away, fade with time.
I was stupid like you are too.
It’s just a phase you’ll get over it soon.
If you don’t like the girl next to you don’t
Speak to her.
If the girl next to you don’t like you, who cares.
She obviously has some self esteem problems.
You obviously do too, though.
My advice I give to you is relax be young,
Act like children and stop stressing
You have no friends.
NOW
Inless you are being beaten by your parents
And they lock you in a room full of your own
Feces. Feeding you only garbage if your lucky.
Then don’t worry to much about your teenage
Stress.
Because someday when you look back you’ll
Laugh at the stress you wish you could have back!
When you’re an adult that stress is minor compared
To ours.