my hate is always bottled up
when im mad my hate over flows
like water bein pourn in a cup.
the hate inside of me is like gate.
when people make me mad it opens
and its not so great. i wish i could just
have a clean slate. for my sake my hate should
die at the end of a stake.
but without my hate my body begins 2 shake
and it begins 2 feel just like a earthquake
i dont know if my body can take it
thats when my hate is turned on with 1 flick
i dont know what 2 take or even choose
my hate will always oze out of me
but most people cant see whats inside of me
but my hate inside of me grows like a tree
and sometimes it needs to be set free
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem