The far left one is my version of "Ten Things I Hate About You"
I hate the way you're smarter than me
I hate your perfect, blinding smile
I hate how you can make me laugh
I hate even more when you make me cry
I hate your wayward curly hair
I hate all your funny stories and pranks
I hate how great your family seems
I hate that you can sing
I hate your geeky interests
I have your passioned views
But most of all
I hate that you don't give a thought to what you'd hate about me
The far right one is just a poem. Now let me say here that I am not a poet. I do think of myself as a writer, but I've never been good at poems.
You may see me on the corner
Or walking down the street
No doubt you've seen my open wound
Viewed every pulse and beat
The "walking wounded" we've been called
From whispers here and there
Taking pains we claim alone
Sometimes more than we can bare
Some call us pathetic
Others call us meek
Even you may have scoffed at us
Called us losers, called us weak
There are no provisions for the likes of us
No laws, no "civil rights"
Our wounds are of a different sort
Nothing helped by arguments or fights
We walking wounded have a quiet strength
Not always seen from below or from above
But we ceaselessly fight a ruthless foe
Called Unrequited Love.
From all this, I'm sure you can tell what's been on my mind. There's someone special out there who I can't help but think about, almost constantly. It's ridiculous and frustrating and I don't want it. But there it is. All I can do is hope that one day, my wound will heal, even if it leaves a scar.
And maybe, someday, someone will find this and it will help them through what I am feeling.