bitter

Misanthropy

Who, me?

I think you got it wrong

Who says I hate everybody?

Most, maybe

But forget about them

What about the rest?

I think they’re ok

Some even not so bad

True, True enough

So I like the trees,

The clouds, The rains

The animals, the storms,

And even the bugs,

More than I like some people,

But does that really make me misanthropic?

I hardly see how

Rose-colored glasses?

Sure, I wear them

How else does one look at all these people?

All those who I really can’t stand to be around?

Misanthropy,

I think it’s probably a made up word

A word made up, just to piss me off

Well, it worked

And just for the record,

I bet if I met him,

I’d hate the person,

Who made that ridiculous word up

So, are we finished here?

Good,

Because this conversation has pissed me off, a bit

I’m going to the park,

So I can cool off, alone

© Dicky J Loweman 2015

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Daft Cunt

You’re a fucking daft cunt

A waste of air, a waste of time

You’re as welcome as an infected boil on my ass

And I doubt

Even a fucking leprosarium would take you in

I bet, in fact, you’d have a hard time finding a leper

Who would be seen with the likes of you

Wha…What?

You brought a bottle?

Weed?

Fuck all, and why didn’t you say so sooner?

I’ll buzz you in

It’ll be good to see you, mate

You fucking daft cunt