How NOT to Write Poetry

Sun, Moon, and Stars.

"No, I'm not mad at you."

The words fly out of my mouth before I can even catch them.
How have I come to lie so easily?

On the other hand,
Who can hate the girl that everyone loves?

Whose hair flows effortlessly as she walks,
Who is kinder than Mother Teresa herself.

How can I hate the girl who is a living, breathing, goddess?

The ground is worshipped wherever you walk,
And used to plant the seeds of my desperation.

Once, you were all I prayed to,
Now I feel like just another one of your warriors.

Who thought they might be special because you blessed them once.
Even though it was accidental.

Everyone preaches to you like a saint,
So how I can speak against that?

How can I tell my story of emotional neglect when everyone is telling me it never happened?

I have been silenced by their words of praise.

Since then, I have sacrificed all my breathing moments to your kingdom in the sky.

Mortals cannot walk up there,
To be considered your equal is absurd.

The worst part is,
You don't even know you live in a palace.