Hate

Hate is not a word I care to adore

But there is only one who could wear that title

As activities participated in entice disruption

To the carrier of such an impractical mind

And bring little peace into my life

That hallow pit in my stomach that I have to endure

When that tyrant being feels entitled

And speaks of battle I could sacrifice to lose

For the tiny happiness I am able to possess

Does not seem enough for my life

Hate is not a word I spend quite often

For I would like to have a pleasant sort of time

However the wound that has been inflicted has yet to be gone

So I await the day when hate is not touched on my lips

Nor spoken in my mind for the remainder of my life