These Things That Hate Me Poem by Yolanda Wel

In the shadows they lurk, unseen and sly,
These things that hate me, I wonder why?
With venomous whispers and icy stares,
They fill my days with haunting despairs.

The wind, it howls with a bitter spite,
Whipping and swirling, a relentless fight.
It tugs at my clothes, with a mocking glee,
As if mocking my every plea.

The rain, it falls in a torrential downpour,
Drenching my spirit, making me feel sore.
Each drop a reminder of sorrow and pain,
A constant reminder of my disdain.

The thunder roars with a thunderous rage,
Shaking the ground, causing my heart to cage.
Its booming echoes, a symphony of hate,
As if mocking my every move, my every fate.

The darkness creeps, with a sinister grin,
Engulfing my world, closing me in.
It wraps around me, a suffocating embrace,
Leaving me no room for solace or grace.

The mirror reflects, a distorted image,
Showing me flaws, a constant scrimmage.
It taunts and jeers, with a twisted delight,
Reminding me of imperfections, day and night.

But within the hate that surrounds my soul,
I find strength to rise and take control.
For in each challenge, I'll find my way,
And rise above the hate, come what may.

For these things that hate me, they may try,
But never again will I ask why,
With resilience and courage, I'll stand tall,
Defying the hate that tries to make me fall.

So let the wind howl, the rain pour down,
The thunder roar, and the darkness frown.
I'll rise above it all, with a heart set free,
For the things that hate me, they cannot define me.