Hay (Revised)

You make my skin crawl In a neutral way. You make me leave the room Then wish I had stayed. I think ill of you Half off the day. Yet I cling to every harsh word that you say. With you I'm either weak or a raging bitch. Even though you're the one with a tiny dick. Crossing paths with you lights my mind on fire. Yet your not someone I've come to love or admire. Your an imperialistic Nazi worshiping fuck. So someone please explain why I feel like the schmuck.

Request permission to use this poem

Explore

Hello PoetryVoting

Write