worry not* I tell her
finding her morose
better time is not far
things can't get worse.

she pulls a smile on her face
basks in my wish
in my hope refreshed
her lips glow pinkish.

what we do are tries
to the rest have no recourse
life's turns and surprise
we can watch not force.

does she believe me really
when I say leave not happiness
or seeing through the cries within me
pulls out a smile on her face?

Hate me for something I did.
Hate me for something I said.
Hate me because I wished something
ill upon you or your loved ones.
Hate me because I'm a vile man,
with a toxic personality.
Hate me for the hell of it.
Hate me because it's the weekend.
Hate me for trying to tear down
your religion or ideology.
Hate me for wearing pajamas to the beach.
Hate me for trying to wear jeans to a funeral.
Hate me for speaking ill of your favorite writer.
Hate because you spent seven dollars for a digital
copy of one of my **** CD's.
Hate me because I think your children are *******,
and I want to feed your pets to larger animals.
Hate me because I curse like a sailor.
Hate me because I don't cuss as much as I used to.
Hate me for being naive.
Hate me for being unsuccessful.
Hate me for breaking something important.
Hate me because I went limp during a ****,
and laughed in your face.
Hate me because I have no ambition.
Hate me because all I do is think all day.
Hate me because I'm a hypocrite.
Hate me because I half *** everything.
Hate me because I wander around town
wearing all black at midnight.
Hate me because I made you a promise
I had zero intention of keeping.
Hate me because I'm not giving you a choice.
It's either
hate me,
or

"Happy Father's Day."
They all say.

Celebrate your fathers, and step-fathers.
But what if you don't have one?
What do we do then? There is no one.

Then what if you have a wretched one?
People tell you that they are your only father.
They tell you that if you don't show them compassion,
You're going to burn to ash.

Not everyone has their "first hero"
Because some people are without a hero.

I'm feeling a little bit prickly
Like the ******* son of a porcupine
created on a misspent night with an over amorous cactus.

I'm trying to shake it off,
staring at blank paper
while it flips me the bird
as I **** into the wind,
feeling like the next government health warning
model looks on a ***** billboard
my edges tattered

Friends'll get you nowhere but down
thats life in a nutshell
pettiness and spite reign all
in "hallowed halls"
however nicely put.

Calls unanswered, messages lost
delivery reports mock my waiting
and bristle my backbone
with their happy chimes.
I want to slap myself so hard that my skin rings
but to what purpose.

Stupid is as stupid does,
the new mantra
stick it on a t shirt for the "tourists"
with the obligatory hashtag
for the smiley faced patronisers
.com .org  .bored