Today, you, I hate.
I showed you my heart of gold.
As you suffered ill fate,
And helped you recover from that state.
Yet, once your suffering was forgotten,
You, my kindness sold.
Today I know I am alone
But, because you did me wrong,
I know I’ve become strong.
No matter the pain, I’m glad this is done.
Because I know you won’t last long,
But next time, when you fall, I will not come.
Today, I slowly my heart mend.
And I know you will regret,
The consequences your actions will beget.
When you next need a real friend,
When you are at your path’s end
My hand I will not lend.
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"Sir, I admit your general rule, That every poet is a fool. But you yourself may serve to show it, Every fool is not a poet." --Alexander Pope.
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