Wednesday, July 1, 2009


I hate these pages
I hate what I write
Even more that I omit.
I hate myself
And I hate the core of your being.
I hate this universe
For the lack of a better reaction.
I hate everything that comes my way.
I hate boys
I hate women even more.
I hate that I'm funny
even when I'm sore, sore, sore.
I hate that I rhyme
My poetry with time.
I hate that I'm sick sick sick of myself!
I hate, I hate
And in hate I create.

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