O, how much more doth beauty beauteous seem By that sweet ornament which truth doth give! The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem For that sweet odour which doth in it live. The canker blooms have full as deep a dye As the perfumèd tincture of the roses, Hang on such thorns, and play as wantonly When summer’s breath their maskèd buds discloses; But, for their virtue only is their show, They live unwooed and unrespected fade, Die to themselves. Sweet roses do not so; Of their sweet deaths are sweetest odours made. And so of you, beauteous and lovely youth, When that shall vade, by verse distills your truth.
•Being told that someone is better than you •Knowing that your being or have been lied too •Letting yourself get beat down •Crying so hard to the point your sick •Losing or have lost someone close to you •Watching or watched yourself fade away •Falling apart because your alone •Being alone because your falling apart •Not Being good enough •Being told she’s prettier •Being mad at someone because your mad at yourself •Best friends falling apart •Being told your fat •Breaking up •Falling out of love •Being used •Being made fun of •Changing for someone else •Realizing he/she doesn’t or never has loved you