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 Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Misanthropy (of his kind)

Poison, your touch hurts like
A thousand pinpricks to the bone.
I cannot stop your words from hurting.

Criminal, you've stolen my heart,
And sold it for cheap, for drugs.
I don't know how to deal from this.

Lullaby, your voice holds the perfect pitch,
Its deepness melts me where I stand.
If only your personality were like your sincere voice.

Lazy, you've got dark, wandering eyes,
Brooding eyes that tell me lies.
Every inch of you is a lie.

Unforgiving, you've become hateful of my eyes,
For my ice blue stares get you nervous.
You've come to detest who I am.

Misanthropy, I cannot trust you,
I cannot trust your kind. Your hatred
Brings me to a rotten new feeling.

March 19, 2004

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