It must be trying to your being
To carry with you constant hate.
So seldom a smile, on you is seen
For surely sir, at birth, it weren`t your fate.
I do not know what passed occurred
To cause so much disdain to flow.
Thus gratifying your spite preferred
By seeking stones for you to throw,
At happy fellows and gleeful lasses
Hoping that you hit your mark,
Inflicting pain upon the masses
Just because you life is dark.
Rudy H. Garcia 4/2013