Wednesday, December 01, 2004

A poem

I wrote a poem.
It's called "I Hate You"

I hate you.
I hope you die.
I worked so hard to try to impress you.
What do I get out of it?
Nothing.
You don't treat me fairly.
I'm the good one, remember?
Do you reward me for being the good one?
Did you ever?
No. Always punishment.
Is it a control issue?
I'm not battling you for control.
But, if it's control you want,
you can have it all when I'm gone.
It's not that far off.
I have to survive a year and a half.
Then I'll be rid of you.
Now I understand why she's such a b!tch all the time.
I can't believe the way you act sometimes.
You make me feel like sh!t.
I'm sick of trying.
Don't worry, I won't anymore.
I won't speak to you,
since it seems like every time I open my mouth I get in trouble.
You overreact to anything, and it's like I'm your punching bag
instead of a child.
I hate you.
I hope you die.

Do you like my poem?