Hate Is Love

You’re not a hater, you’re a fan.

I know my attention’s in demand

But you act pretentious to enhance the mirage to my senses

And get relentless because you don’t understand

Or can’t comprehend why I solely focus on sculpting a better man.

You think you’re getting clever when you attempt to sever my hands through words that hurt

And bring pain but throwing dirt does nothing but leave stains on my shirt.

Stains can always be cleaned,

And what’s ironic is what we have in common is what we think,

And it’s funny that we’re both focused on the same thing...