Get off my back,
get Out of my head.
I don't need your sympathy,
your empathy,
your help at all.
I'll live my life just how I choose,
since it won't last much longer.
And when it all is said and done,
who do you think's the stronger?
When my life finally stops,
with the last breath to escape my lungs
I'll tell everyone that I did,
exactly what I desired.
Not what you thought best,
and I'm the better person for it.
I will spit in your face with my last ounce of strength,
now tell me,
have you done that?


You'll excuse the odd format and such.It's simple venting in lines, which is why I write poetry to begin with. Venting.