Nice.

The boy I've had a crush on for a bit simply said I was 'nice' when asked what he thinks of me. This enraged me, considering what had been stated by him in the past.

I am nice.
That's all people see,
So don't tell me twice.
"She's so sweet- innocent,"
So pure, so nice.
I get it, that's all.
Your kind words- like ice.
It's positive, yes,
But don't call me nice.
You know not my path,
Or of the snake eyed dice,
But that's okay-
Because I am nice.
I am a suicidal mess,
My hair done by mice.
Fear of me, not!
For I, I am nice.
Truth be told, I am.
But truth is I am more than nice.
I am hurt, dying, cold, and alone,
I stand a 'low, the sacrifice.
I paint a smile for you,
because to you that's suffice.
That doesn't matter though,
As I am nice.
I smile to you,
as you entice,
Your words- so painful-
Yet I beg for your advice.
I guess I care for you,
But only because I am nice.

Reviews

[Melissa]

I don't mean to be smarty-farty, Mothy, but this is nicely done. I like the way you have expressed your thoughts so cleanly in words and still conveyed such feeling, without letting the feeling run away and swamp your poem. (easy for us young writers to do). And rounds off at the end.. Cool.

[Miss Mothy]

Thank you.