Hate
Hate, is like Shakespeare's last sound;
A mouses' whisper, it falls to the ground.
You never know it's there, it stays and lies;
And when you catch a glimpse, it shrivels up and dies.
You don't understand, I'm not trying to feel this for you;
But even now, my emotions are so true.
Once again, my heart is going to bust;
Now there's just hate, left lying in dust.
Copyright © Jennifer Post | Year Posted 2012
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