I think, therefore I am, but only on the inside

I hate.

With blisters in my ears,

My fists swell up with tears,

Oblivious to my peers.

I despise.

With my eyes that are just straight,

My lungs pressured under weight,

The aversion that will rightly inflate.

I abhor.

With your life I could satirise,

My loathing sweat that fills in my eyes,

A growing ulcer that could reach the skies.

Yet I endear.

With my just cause at a reasonable gait,

My reassurance needs not to wait,

That outside I resemble a smile and call you "mate".

Reviews

[Daniel Sutheran]

It rather annoys me that there is a character limit on comments; I merely want to say "Yes".

[Anti Phalanx]

'daw, shucks. You're too kind