Hate

I am angry with myself.
It's more of a habit.

Image by Jim Blob Blann

Why not just blame yourself?
It seams like the thing to do.

Hurting yourself is easy,
When there is no one to stop
Those awful things you say
To yourself.

I remind myself that I am loved;
That must mean that I am worth loving,
                                                        Right?
There is something that nags at my soul.

Hating others is frowned upon, but
Hating yourself is the thing to do.
Everyone says they wish they were
Something else, someone else.

I look in the mirror and wish
That I could see me, instead of
Seeing myself through the eyes of
Others - Others that hate.

Hating others is frowned upon, but
Hating differences is the thing to do.
I am different, can you love me?
I blame myself for not being the same.

"The maze"

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We wander through the hall
Time is no friend to us,
                           not at all
Bumped and bruised
We feel broken
                           and used
Twisted and torn
There is no hope for us
                           from the day we were born
Life us a tumultuous maze
We were dumped there
                           until the end of days
Our anger is burning,
                  our mind is caught a blaze
We scream and cry out
                  for our freedom we mourn
Spun in circles,
                  we are distant and confused
Distraught and alone
                  since our debilitating fall

"Time"

One second passed by;
  did you notice?
Days, hours, minutes, seconds:
  time has such a hold on our lives.
Each moment of joy,
  moment of sorrow,
  moment of thought can be broken down
  into measurement until its meaningless.
How long is a moment?
What does a second of love feel like?
  Is it the same feeling as a second of anger?
Look at the clock,
  this thing - this portal
  physical numbers - temporal symbols
  what does it tell you?
Is it lunch time?
  bed time?
  time for that meeting?
  time to go?
  time to stay?
  quitting time?
  quiet time?
The alarm clock rings, shredding dreams,
  starting the day, ticking off the seconds.
Could life be any more regimented?
  Could there be a greater dictator than your schedule?
Close your eyes;
  reclaim one moment.
One second passed by;
  did you feel it?