The Hated “like” Poem by WEIKAMA EMMA

The Hated “like”



like being cursed to kill for ever for killing a sorceress’ son in defense

like raising children and at only 17 they think they can afford shouting at you

like being hated because of who you are, American, bachellor’s holder,

like trying your best to express the sadness wishing she could just say she's sorry. but no, she's got her pride to cherrish.

like waking up at thirty five and in the middle of no whereallbecauseyou wasted time pushing other people's help away cherrishing stupid illussions of thinking you can make it alone up the mountain of dreams


like turning on that radio to give solace to your mind but the song playing is acountry and you end up crying.

like achieving everything in life and realising that the one you worked hard for's got a heart that beats for someone else.


like having a crash on someone who doesn't seem to realise it much as you try to make him see it because you cant tell him.


like finding love on the internet and drowning and getting all soggy in there, but the costs of getting together compete with life itself.


like watching and listening to your onlysupport poles in this ultra creepy world take there last breath, and there's nothing you can do to help as it's all nature, but cry.


like carefully selecting a gift for the one you love but later find that she's not using it at all.



like wishing you were made of stone because youcant handle the anger rising inside you, wishing you could just die

like a bridge on fire and the only one that links you to the next step if you are to last for long


and you pray for forgivenness but it feels like no one is even paying attention to the look in your weary eyes.


like being with only but one sister, and all you think of is the day she'll be gone to the keeper of the stars


like setting the ball rolling towards the one you've been thinking of all night and you get there and \find she did not work that day


and you try to reach her by phone and realise you've not her number as you got it a day ago and the one yo'd crummed is not in use any more


like that romance novel in which your favourite character suffers much and at the end of it all dies

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