Loathing

June 1, 2010
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Loathing is the acid that lines the stomach,
A black hole of warranted disgust
Their every move, the mere concept of such existence,
Makes me angry, upset, and sick.
Their shrill voice is like daggers to my ears.
The ignorance they so blissfully bathe in,
Makes me want to tear them down.
I bite my tongue until it bleeds because I have always been told,
That enemies are the scissors of society
Cutting and ripping it at it’s folds.
I don’t want that responsibility on me.
I’ll wait until the day when someone else tells them off.
Then I’ll unclench my jaw and smile,
Because I’ll know that I had won.





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