I hate the way you talk to me,
And the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive your car.
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dump combat shoes,
And the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much that it makes me sick,
And even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you always write.
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh,
Even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you’re not around,
And the fact that you didn’t call.
But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,
Not even close,
Not even a little bit,
Not even at all.
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