What more can I do?

Never did I find pity when wanna-bes want prestige. Pursuit only a peasants disease. " your too pretty putting up with ugly" she said smugly. Yet I'm too nice to be in this bad! Because your the damn near best thing I ever had. Watch as u walk down a dark route. Reaping the trouble you sew from dark fruit. You dispute but you don't have too. The troubles are in the lies, these words are out of truth. Yet now that their said, what more can I do?