Like the stars in the night sky,
you are sprinkled in so many stores.
In my own opinion, you are nothing but a bore.
You are the TWILIGHT in others’ eyes.
You are the twinkle in their smile.
Yet, you are the torture to me,
the key to all that is vile.
I would rather smell pig poo
than spend my time reading you.

“Edward and Bella” is all I hear.
T-shirts and books are what I see.
You have never been interesting
and to me, you never will be.
You are not a piece of artwork,
nor worth a moment of my eyes.
The awards you are given
are false and they are lies.
All of them given for your “true art”
when it should be for “torture at heart.”