Thursday, 19 November 1998

I hate him

Nov 1998

i see him quite often sometimes
across the street
he is not so repulsive from there
and sometimes i stop and look
and he looks back

we don't often speak
we have, but the words
typicallly an echo of sneery grunts
for i do not like him
nor he me

i see him up close sometimes
then i am driven almost to hate
his uglyness,
his face a mask of pent up pain and sorrow
finds no pity in me

sometimes it is many months between
our meetings face to face
and almost i do not know him
but those eyes, he can not hide form me
and i always turn and walk away

i've known him a long time
i used to think he was pretty cool
smart, good looking, quick of wit
and even good with girls
i even loved his skill with sounds

but that was long ago
his past crimes have led me to dispise his ways
to hate him to his face
to laugh at his self esteem
for i know better, ah yes i do

i wish that we would never meet again
and death to him seems to me so just
and way way late in coming
i've contemplated
yes, i've thought to take his life

but i am not so good myself
and i have never found the strength of will
or courage
to do this deed so due
so i just wait and hope

i hope it will not be long

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