if you want to know the one type of "poetry" that I despise with every fibre of my body, look no further than this book. I love a good rhyme, I also enjoy poems with no rhyme, as long as the poetry has meaning to it. This book has neither rhyme nor meaning. If I had to describe this book to someone, I would probably describe it as a 14-year-old teen found a "feel good/motivational" type of book and took the most cringe-worthy sentences added some lines from her diary and called it a day. The fact that so many teenagers actually like this book is mind-boggling to me. If you want real poetry I'd suggest you look up Emily Dickinson, William Blake, Stevie Nicks, Florence Welch, Edgar Allan Poe or anyone else that is not a 21- century "feminist poet"