Ah, we've all done it. Those wasted, wistful days when our only friend was despair and a tatty notebook.
I have decided to share the only adolescent poetry I recall from my youth. It's an odd mix of unrequited love and practical advice:
Kate Bush said "come and wallow
In the soft musk of my hollows"
And though I said "fair enough",
I was wary of the fluff.