I've been unhappy for as long as I can remember. It seems like nothing good can ever happen to me or ever will. It's like I'm a magnet to bad things. I put on this act like I'm happy, but I'm not. Everyday I have to get up and face myself and who've I become. If I sit here and talk about what has happened to me, it's going to be a long profile. All I want is for at least one thing to happen thats good. It seems like the world has turned its back on me and won't ever look at me again. When I write my poems I write about how I feel. I dont even know who there about after I'm done writting them. When I read them back to myself I don't even think they make sense. Once I get into my own bubble I can write for hours and no one can bother me. The only thing is I don't even like my poems. I think there stupid and have no meaning.