Cookie Cutter Artist

Cookie Cutter Artist

Ironic how your vapid ways to be unconventional prove to be timeworn

Your pain is so grand, so unique, no one can understand as you twist your processed hair as you slip with the scissors only to create blunt banal bangs

When you walk in a room you deem to be worthy of your stereotype dripping with inelegant conventionalism with mismatched ensembles which resemble a vomit of vintage synthetic splattered fabrics, yet you all look the same and you all talk the same

You bore me with your soporific rambles of vulgarities; no one is shocked by your one trick pony lyrics

Nothing you say is poignant or exclusive

You are merely a regurgitation of an idea of what you want to portray to an audience

So trite, so common, irritating and oh so unoriginal; take a look at yourself

You’re a “cookie cutter artist”; mentally unstable singing the song of there is truth in sadness

Indeed there is! Be real instead of this pathetic vacuous façade, words deserve more respect

You disrespect the dictionary and eloquence is not in your vocabulary

Misery and suffering are indignant by your foul portrayal of grief

You are so punk. Please, you are just a streak of putrid filth. Be gone

Rachel L. C. Jacques