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Misery Not Hate

from the early notebook

Hate is only relative,
purposefully sharp as shivs,
fortified inside the mind,
born by choice and by design.

Transformed hurt and misery,
blinding thinking feasibly —
once begun, unstoppable,
it breeds revenge, methodical:

destruction that is imminent,
in cold blood, hate impenitent,
removed by one in brutal end.
Hate is nothing to befriend.

shadowshining · poems by ethank