How do I loathe thee? There aren't enough ways. I loathe your birth, your girth; the lack of mirth My tired spirit can reach under your curse; For loss of truth on your tenuous stay. I loathe you for the depth of my lost days' Most silent tears, for all of what they're worth. I loathe thee as I love our damaged Earth. I loathe you for your blathering self-praise. I loathe deeply with the disdain I held For my old habits, and my wayward sins. I loathe you with the intense, hurtful pains Of lost loves left on our bleak battlefields. I loathe with a passion I freely choose, As free choice allows. I loathe with my heart, My thoughts, my whole being; and when you lose, I'll loathe thee lovingly as you depart.
Tip of the cap and apology to Elizabeth Barret Browning. I think I got the format for the sonnet right. The syllabic emphases may be a bit off, but the spirit of the sonnet is there. Sonnet 45 because he's the 45th president.