Bitterness Poem by Jona PoloRamirez

'We are the choices we have made.' Meryl Streep

It hates itself - ignorant and deprived - a good word: sparse.
Its wit and ingenuity - tools for fame -
Not for honour or integrity'
Its perception of others - superseded by jealousy,
A friend's presence, if any, points back to its own existence.

Its conscience runs wild with a dichotomy of words -
Not to praise, but to bring down someones self-esteem
As if to let me know that mine is crawling on the ground
Never to rise and be my own kind.

Its judgement - 'ever rationalized by absence of reason,
There I am ready to listen, though how nonsense
Its existence, someone is willing to understand its being
Bitter - but even I can not understand why?