Hate
Everyone knows someone to hate,
Often they claim it is their mate.
Truth be told, I will be bold.
It is contempt with myself that I hold.
Life's paths I have wandered.
Seldom did it lead to good places.
For others my wisdom abounds,
Myself it only seems to confound.
The web gets tangled when I weave,
I am simply trying to perceive.
I run with friends in a tempest swirl,
More times than not, it over a girl.
No problem too big for Absolute to solve.
In no time at all the room, it, revolves.
Noon peaks in, I think 'What a sin'.
Contempt wells up and I give in.
Then guess what?
I do it again, FOOL
Jim 1965
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem