Roses are red... Violets are blue (BAAAAAAAAAAAD WRITING)

Roses are red,
Violets should be pink
I really do suck
at writing poems I think.
I cry myself to sleep at night,
I cry myself to sleep at night,
I cry myself to sleep at night,
when I think about our first fight.
The sky is really blue today,
Horses and cows love to eat hay,
My least favorite month is the month of May,
Hear Fat Albert scream, hey hey hey!
The flower's beauty is like unto a rose whose petals were kissed by the sun each morning at then laid down to sleep at night the stars acting as a sheet.
I gaze into the horizon and picture my life as clearly as the waters of the ocean right after the waves of a hurricane did beat.
Mr. Nelson makes us write bad poems,
can i do that? Oh let me just show-'em..s
how bad I really can be
who knew it was true?
This poem sucks so bad my face is literally turning blue.