D.I.S.L.I.K.E./H.A.T.E.

I hate a lot of people.
But hate is too strong a word to use on you, a trifle hard; dislike is what I have for you.

D for dumb.
I for ignorant.
S for stupid.
L for lazy.
I for illogical.
K for kinky.
E for enthusiastic. Not!

You are all these, and all that you speak.
It annoys me.
Annoys me no end.
My arrow doesn’t always stop at dislike; I’d like to hate you.

And I think I will.

H for horrific.
A for arrogant.
T for terrible.
E for erratic.

There! My feelings have graduated.
It now feels even more that you’re overrated.
Now my hatred is at a point of no return,
It’s okay, my boy, my hate never hurt anyone.

Tearing The Mask Apart

All we wear are masks,
year in and year out
to facilitate us in our daily lives,
that which we go about.

How we wish to run,
hair wild and uncouth,
to laugh and shriek at others,
remove all ill without.

Nay, we wish to cry,
alone, by ourselves, aloud,
to not be judged at all,
face no venomous mouth.

A friend by our side,
to scream and to shout,
so we may not lose ourselves
amidst a worthless crowd.

We want to erase all,
no more remain in doubt
about ourselves, masks to be torn
into a mist of clouds.