It Doesn't Really Matter

Stretched too far,
A gigantic, grotesque scar,
Walked on like a road of tar,
Want to be hit by a car,
Without a single, bright star,
In constant self-war,
Worth less than a gar.

Worthless,
In an unfixable mess,
Unable to fess,
Incapable of even playing chess,
Not going to say yes.

Dreams of mine shatter,
As my peers gather,
To spread insults and to banter,
My screams become fainter,
Like an unskilled painter,
My scream that's a whisper,
Compared to a pin-drop it's quieter,
It doesn't really matter.