Now what can I title this one as?

I'm doing this far too much,
Could it be it's become a crutch?
Pumping out bile,
With nary a smile,
And totally out of touch.

I just chart death and disaster,
Unpleasantness writ ever faster.
Disturbing verses,
Eliciting curses,
And patched with sticking plaster.

Maybe putting myself down,
With an insipid fake frown.
False modesty,
Ain't the worst you'll see,
My avatar being renown.

So what can I do to improve it,
Rhymes so sweet you can groove it.
But Impeccable verse,
Will only end worse,
See what I mean, this is sh!t.