My Ideal

got bored during History and decided to start writing.

What cruel pains do I today face?
What cruel beings after me chase?
Why is this world so full of hate
refusing to ever abate?

Sitting, crying this world makes me
but never a hint will they ever see
that I can't take this anymore
that I can't continue this chore
of this life that others call gift
who on high do they always lift
this thing I think of such a waste
that which I look at with distaste.

But I will not stop living here
looking on hate without a fear.
Maybe I can another find
who'll agree with my disturbed mind
till then I shall be all alone
till a time when for change they moan
till the time when all hate is dead
and my ideal is worldly spread.