It starts off with a sound,
A look, or even a feel.
You start getting attached,
But not the way to be appealed.
It grows inside of you,
it cant be stopped.
Its the one that evidently
turns the clock.
As time passes by,
you continue to think,
of the more passionate ways,
To drive your hate.
The strongest of them all,
causes a quake,
neither love nor happiness,
Cant seem to stop the shake.
You do all in your power,
to stop every hour.
Yet the power of hate
Drives on evidently to your wake.
My favorite part of this was the way you married poetic musicality with great detail. --Mr. Johnson
ReplyDeleteYou're next poem needs to be how to combat hate! Well done. I'm so happy to see you trying your hand at some poetry. ~ Mrs. Kopp
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