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A Sonnet for Slice
How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
To the end of your being and extinguished light.
I hate thee to the level of every day's
Most bleak need, by darkness and end of light.
I hate thee freely, as men strive to fight.
I hate thee purely, as they turn to rage.
I hate thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my teenage angst.
I hate thee with a venom I seemed to lose
With lost Zoners. I hate thee with the breath,
Frowns, tears, of all my life; and, if G-d choose,
I shall but hate thee better after death.
How do I hate thee? Let me count the ways.
I hate thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
To the end of your being and extinguished light.
I hate thee to the level of every day's
Most bleak need, by darkness and end of light.
I hate thee freely, as men strive to fight.
I hate thee purely, as they turn to rage.
I hate thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my teenage angst.
I hate thee with a venom I seemed to lose
With lost Zoners. I hate thee with the breath,
Frowns, tears, of all my life; and, if G-d choose,
I shall but hate thee better after death.