I Hate
I hate to write of misery
But I love it so much
It make me feel so real
Like love from a mother
From child to parent
I hate to write of pain
Though I endure it everyday
And the only way I can ignore it
If I write it down on paper
The only thing that feels my pain
I hate to write of tears
But they come at random times
There either red or clear
But mostly there black
I hate to write of anger
I barely ever feel it
It never seems to let me be
But when it comes
It never leaves
I hate to read these poems
Because every time I read them
I relive the time
I relive the experience
Of what happened on that same exact day.
End
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