Hate me today, hate me everyday
I don't want to be a part of ur life
Days we spent be the best memories
So hate me today, hate me every day.

Loved u a lot, cried for u a lot
Still u cheated, Still u hurted
Where did I go wrong that u left me alone
So hate me today, hate me every day.

U never knew what I had for u
U thought that I never had love for u
So I dont think u love me any more
So hate me today, hate me every day.

U never let me know ur feelings
Why did I say mine like a fool
Love me never, hate me forever
So hate me today,hate me every day.

I never knew I could write a poem
But this is the way to express my love
I am shocked to see a poem on u from me
So hate me today, hate me every day.

I read this in a scrap book and made few alterations.. I just liked the poem. That's why posted it here in my blog.

Comments

katz said…
the poem kinda describes the kinda life i had a long time ago...pretty accurate poetry...

poet must have had it hard in life..as i usually say...its during the test of times do we see the essence of wat that makes us a human
2:14 PM
Manoj said…
sollanum nenachudu ellam sollitu...last.a un poem illanu sollite paathiya...hehehe

Janani.... enna matter... unmaya sollu... seri seri inga venam...
4:09 PM
Janani said…
@ Manoj
Dei Checked out my scrap book U will find this poem.. I just made few alterations and posted it..Grrrr [:X]
8:54 PM
Manoj said…
muhahahahaha.... ok ok freeya vidu :)
8:40 AM
Serendipity said…
nice poem ;)
2:03 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

To prioritize or Not to; thats the question

A professor stood before his Philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous “yes”. The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed. “ Now,” said the professor, as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognize that t
Read more

Freedom at Midnight

Till date I never read a book consecutively twice. But I had to; in this case. When I completed reading the book first time I was too lost in facts to miss the emotions. I felt hatred, devotion, anger and a confused feeling towards British, Indian Leaders, Mohammed Ali Jinnah and Gandhi in that order. I was surprised how little I knew about my mother land. The Empire was 'heavy with gold, black with industrial soot, and red with the blood of conquest.' Collins and Lapierre open the book on New Year's Day, 1947 -- London awakes to filth of its own country. The reader is taken on a journey of significant events that lead to the independence of India. On the way you will be introduced to many brilliant characters that shaped the history of India and have left a mark that is still evident. The authors’ attempt to justify everything done by the British Indian Empire by concealing the atrocities brought about by them during their so-called Raj in India. Collins and Lapierre skip
Read more

Malayalam-too tough

Aahaaaa…..Finally got something to post about. Was suffering from writer’s block... he.. hee.he. Spent a few days at my granny’s place with net access denied and got back home just this weekend. Now when I am back to blogsville something has taken back my writing skills. Thought too much about what to post and my mom could see a smoke coming through my ears. Now getting back to topic. Since I had no special work to carry on I was ransacking my shelves to find some good old books to read. My hands fell on a book and it was my Malayalam book. When my exams got over I was bent on making mom help me learn Malayalam. That turned out to be a disaster. Though I am a malayalee, being born and brought up in Chennai is the only reason I can’t read and write my mother tongue. That’s a shame. I wanted to learn before I reach trivandrum for my training at TCS. So with the same vigor I bought a book to help me, since mom had certain confusion with new version and started learning the alphabets. Afte
Read more