Why am I such a weenie?

Why am I such a weenie?
What do you mean, you may ask
Well, I wish I had a backbone
When I am given the task
Of giving my opinion
On hair, clothes, and other stuff
I can never say my true feelings
Well, I've finally had enough
No more false complimenting
I might even hurt some feelings
No more Mr. Rodgers
I'll send everyone a-reeling
'Cause nice me is gone
I'll pop your bloated little head
When you ask me to read your story
And I relpy that I'd rather be dead
I'm sick of always being nice
And also of being afraid
Of what you might think of me
What the others might say
Your poems?
They're all trash
Your stories?
They're all crap
Well, maybe I won't be THAT mean
But I definitely won't be sweet
Well I guess I can be a little...
My God, I am so weak