Here's the link to the poem:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Re36aaH76GhhIWsaSxGb1c0e8PMnBKbFemDpsek8O8A/pub

It's 13 stanzas and 4 lines in each stanza. Yes, it's long but please read.. I just need help with rather or not its good.

Is it good?
What can be fixed if it isn't perfect?
What do you think this poem is about? (I want to see if it matches my description)
The tone of it?

I really need to know before I show this to my special someone. So any and all help would be appreciated.
Thanks!

Why does the poem go "Roses are red; violets are blue"?

We know that the color violet was named for the flower, and this means that violets must be violet.

I. BURIAL OF THE DEAD
"What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow

"Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,

You cannot say, or guess, for you know only

A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,

And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,

And the dry stone no sound of water."

God Particles
Chapter One

In the beginning, there was nothing.
And I mean NOTHING!
Not one little thing.
Not even a place to set your coffee.
And God said, "Well, this sucks."
Then, because He was bored sh*tless, God created a bunch of stuff.
Rocks, mostly.
Some gas; some ice.
A little dust.
The next day, God said, "Let there be light, 'cause I can't see what the hell I'm doing!"
God clapped His hands together once, and Behold! There was light---and He saw that it wasn't too shabby.
But when God saw the enormous pile of rocks and junk He had created, and its many sharp, pointy bits, He was very unhappy, so He blew it all up with some dynamite.
God watched His new stuff go whizzing-off in all directions.
He nodded and said, "Now that's more like it."
Later, God toyed-with the idea of looking for some of the pieces…
But God could not decide in which direction to proceed.
I mean, maybe He could catch-up with one or two boulders, but which ones?
And why bother, really?
They're just a bunch of stupid rocks, right?
So He said "Screw it." and went back to sleep.
God didn't notice one of the rocks had grazed His finger…

Next Week: Chapter Two
(in which God decides to take a trip but cannot find His hat.)

-Coffee shoppe-

When the barista asked my name,
and I whispered "Phoenix",
there was no shame.

I felt as if I could fly,
my wings had opened,
and I was in the sky.

Raised from the ash,
from the fires of normality,
where I crashed.

Albeit, I'm not very bird like,
more like a hippie,
and punk rock spike...

What do you think of my poem?
Thanks :)