I hate you, but miss your nights,
Your moon, your starts at midnights,
The distant homes and their lights,
Calm is what I feel in these sights.
Shy smiles,
Smiling eyes,
Painted skies
I feel beloved, happier, and nostalgic,
From the memories to places we saw as idyllic,
The loud melodic laughter did its magic,
we grew up and chased melancholic dreams.
I love you to the moon and back.
I love you but I hate your people,
Your places and some of the faces,
Their preying and perverted glances,
I grew bored and longed for some changes.
I hate you from the pits of dust.
From the lurking feelings in which the insects creep,
To the scorching heat, your atmosphere brings,
And I will not forget the inner turmoil you feed;
I pity myself just as much as I pity your place.
Surrounded by people, yet I feel lonely,
Embraced by the locals, but I don’t feel homely,
Praised by family, but my confidence hangs lowly.
How could I feel?
How could I see?
I see your tears, hear you weep and feel your pain.
But I stand, angry, with selfishness, in disdain.
A touch of sympathy is what you need,
But I cannot bring to suppress my greed.
Shall we try and get out of our creed?
But Love remains, even at hard times.
I guess your shabby roads are your specialty,
You excel in instilling this feeling of familiarity.
Your infused, chaos and beauty define your singularity.
I Love you to the moon and back,
I hate you from the pits of dust,
I will always pity you, and will always love you.