It’s true, I stand by this statement, all teenage girls really do write bad poetry.
Okay, perhaps I should refine it a little.
All teenage girls who feel the need to write poetry, write bad poetry.
Very bad poetry. And it does seem to be most of them who do it.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not having a go at teenage girls. Teenage boys are jerks. Immature idiots. But the stupid things they say, the bad jokes they tell, are lost in time. Thankfully!
They do not ever feel the need to dip into their past and produce a wad load of A4 printouts of their immaturity. A few beers with their old friends are they often find themselves back there again…
However, so many times I have had a sheaf of old poems presented to me by a new girlfriend, sometimes just a female friend. Even one of my landladies did it. Things they wrote in school. In collage.
Each poem is painfully honest. Painfully earnest. Painful to read.
Death features heavily.
I have read way too many, so I repeat it again: all teenage girls write bad poetry.
Except for one.