the Beauty of Man

April 28, 2011
By Anonymous

the Beauty of Man

is my curse,
the superiority

deems me scum,
an ability to love,

makes me hate.

but I am glad I can hate;
the hate is deserved.

let it engulf me;
pain and punishment.

let it kill from within
(rip, tear, slash gnaw)
the monster inside--
it was permitted existence by
the Beauty of Man

The author's comments:
I know this is an ambiguous poem, but it's supposed to be. The "it" is something I can't admit to myself, so the reader doesn't know what it is either.

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