Troubled

I hate listening to songs,
Hate pondering wrongs.
I hate making faults,
Then absent mindedly admitting flaws.
I hate trusting fate,
I hate as it turns out lame.
I hate moments that I cry,
When someone bothers me with why.
I hate that tears just roll,
Like an evil troll.
When right then spring flowers bloom,
For a false heirloom.
Does it pain to be on the other side,
Or they just carefully pick the safe side.
I hate people who smile,
Underneath the heavier trial.
I hate making up,
Everytime it’s breaking up.
I hate wisdom,
Of island uncanny.
I hate truth,
Just blurted ruthlessly.
I hate sympathy,
Without even knowing what’s it like.
I hate long waits,
With endless traits.
I hate that gone,
Means trudging alone.
I hate being troubled,
Despite being the one gobbled by false hopes.
I hate that’s nothing new..
And I do hate the fact that I can never be you.

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