I found a box of all the poems I wrote in high school. So strange to read what I was going through. Here’s to sharing.
By: Jeanette Theu
Hatred is deep you are making fun of me.
Hatred is deeper you are picking on me.
You can’t hate a person until you know them.
You can’t judge someone until you understand them.
Don’t judge me at all mostly don’t judge me because I’m different.
I’ve been told there is a thin line between love and hate.
Is the hatred that’s so deep, misunderstood as something else completely.
I can’t image facing the hatred with light, it’s like the devil with an angel.
My angel beats hard in fear and the devil wants to consume me
The devil and angel moulded into one, moulded into a chemical reaction with bonds of unlike charges.
The bonds of me moulded, and the moulded halves you see as bad and good. He’s my companion, my positive, my negative, my addiction and my supernatural being.