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.