I Hate You
I hate the way you dress that way. You must've earned heavy pay.
I hate your car all glossy and clean. I don't like it it seems.
I don't like the way you dance. You're so strong indeed.
But mostly like the way you walk, so confidently.
But then I discovered I didn't like myself.
Indeed I had to good things in me.
So I started on my fingers all the good about me.
Then I began liking you. You had done nothing wrong.
Vera Sidhwa's Other Poems
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