They Taught Me To Hate

This morning, my anger surfaced.
An anger that burns deep.
An anger that is justified.
And true.
And pure.

An anger that tells me
That if I stop,
And think about the events
Of this past year.
My anger will ignite again.
Almost endlessly.

I have said before
That no one is to blame
For what happened to me.
That it was just one of those things.
It was inevitable.

But when I say those words,
I lie right through my teeth.
For while no one may be to blame
For my fall into depression.
Everyone’s to blame
For how they responded to me.
How they treated me.
In the days that I was ill.
And how they have treated me
In the last half year.

It’s very much as if they’re glad
That they got rid of me.

I’ve never know what hatred is
In my whole life.
I don’t know
That I’ve ever hated
Anyone before.
Until now.

And now,
Because of the way that I was treated
After I became ill.
Because it’s very much
Like the people I worked with
Simply threw me in the trash,
And said, “Thank God, he’s gone!”

I’ve learned what hatred is.
Something that I wish I’d never learned.

But, just like the people
Of the church that I once went to,
Normal people have once more
Gone to staggering,
Stunning lengths
To teach me something new.

They taught me how to hate.

They taught me that sometimes
People never forgive.
And never forget.

That people can put someone
That they knew.
Someone they worked with for years.
Someone they even once called friend.
Into a little box.
And lock that sucker up.
And throw away the key.
And take that box to sea.
And watch it sink
Beneath the ocean’s waves.
Never to be seen again.

And then they say,
“Thank, God. That’s over with.”

This is what I’ve learned from them.
This is what they taught me.

And I find it very hard.
Very difficult indeed.
To do the thing I know
That I should do.

I find it very difficult for me
To forgive a single one off them
For the way they treated me
In the days that I was sick.
And the way they treated me
After all the tests
That they required me to take
Were done.
And passed.

And the way they’ve treated me
In this past month.

My anger burns through me
When I think of them.
And of the scars I carry
In my heart and soul.

Scars that are what’s left
Of the wounds
That they inflicted
Upon me.

And to think
That I once thought
Of any one of them
As a friend.

God above,
Help me.
Help me to forget
What hatred is.

For I don’t want to be
Like them.

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