appreciation

i used to write little pretty poems
to pretty little girls
all about my pretty little loves
which in turn became
poems of hate
clad in depravity and desperation
which led to poems all dressed in leather
some psuedo sickness of the sexualized twenty first century
yet here i sit
still trying to push and pump them out
to a crowd that does not read them
can not see them
would care less if they could
i think i do it for me
but there must be something else
it doesn't clear my head
or make more precise my thoughts
there are no smiles
no laughs
no frowns or cries
just simple words
from a simple man
who no matter how simple it gets
can still not be understood
at least to my liking