Hateful trait

Hating is like painting

The ink keeps flowing

from canvas to canvas

There is no respite


It drips and coagulates

like blood in our veins

We hold it in our bosom

for revenge is all we feel


We become leeches

as hate seeps through our veins

Our vision is distorted

when hatred is all we see


©  Norma Bobb-Semple  2016


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