Reading poems about hate can help you purge yourself of all the ill feelings in your heart. Hate is an emotion that can create inner turmoil in you. It is powerful enough to consume you from within.
When you realize someone hates you, you feel uncomfortable and lose your peace of mind. However, when you develop feelings of hatred, it is important to address them as early as possible.
Since these feelings distract you from positivity, expressing them through words can help you heal faster. Poetry is a powerful tool of emotional expression that allows us to channel feelings of hatred into creative outlets. Reading and writing poetry can help you explore complex emotions and facilitate a journey from negativity to healing. This post has a list of poems about hate that will help you find inner solace and inspire you to build positivity. Keep scrolling.
‘I Hate You’ Poems
A 25-year-old mother, wife, and writer feels that writing poems is therapeutic and helps her relieve anger and stress. She says, “My biggest tool for processing feelings is writing. Getting out my feelings onto a page where I can look at them and understand them is a big, big help. That all said, I wrote an angry poem recently and it’s probably going to piss some people off. But I felt like I needed to share it and talk about all of this (i).”
When someone hurts you terribly, you experience a mix of anger, betrayal, grief, pain, and a sense of repugnance towards the person who caused the harm. Every stanza of these poems help you vent your feelings and usher peace into your heart.
1. To My Enemy
Let those who will of friendship sing,
And to its guerdon grateful be,
But I a lyric garland bring
To crown thee, O, mine enemy!
Thanks, endless thanks, to thee I owe
For that my lifelong journey through
Thine honest hate has done for me
What love perchance had failed to do.
I had not scaled such weary heights
But that I held thy scorn in fear,
And never keenest lure might match
The subtle goading of thy sneer.
Thine anger struck from me a fire
That purged all dull content away,
Our mortal strife to me has been
Unflagging spur from day to day.
And thus, while all the world may laud
The gifts of love and loyalty,
I lay my meed of gratitude
Before thy feet, mine enemy!
— Lucy Maud Montgomery
2. Let Such Pure Hate Still Underprop
Let such pure hate still underprop
Our love, that we may be
Each other’s conscience,
And have our sympathy
Mainly from thence.
We’ll one another treat like gods,
And all the faith we have
In virtue and in truth, bestow
On either, and suspicion leave
To gods below.
Two solitary stars–
Unmeasured systems far
Between us roll;
But by our conscious light we are
Determined to one pole.
What need confound the sphere?–
Love can afford to wait;
For it no hour’s too late
That witnesseth one duty’s end,
Or to another doth beginning lend.
It will subserve no use,
More than the tints of flowers;
Only the independent guest
Frequents its bowers,
Inherits its bequest.
No speech, though kind, has it;
But kinder silence doles
Unto its mates;
By night consoles,
By day congratulates.
What saith the tongue to tongue?
What hearest ear of ear?
By the decrees of fate
From year to year,
Does it communicate.
Pathless the gulf of feeling yawns;
No trivial bridge of words,
Or arch of boldest span,
Can leap the moat that girds
The sincere man.
No show of bolts and bars
Can keep the foeman out,
Or ‘scape his secret mine,
Who entered with the doubt
That drew the line.
No warder at the gate
Can let the friendly in;
But, like the sun, o’er all
He will the castle win,
And shine along the wall.
There’s nothing in the world I know
That can escape from love,
For every depth it goes below,
And every height above.
It waits, as waits the sky,
Until the clouds go by,
Yet shines serenely on
With an eternal day,
Alike when they are gone,
And when they stay.
Implacable is Love–
Foes may be bought or teased
From their hostile intent,
But he goes unappeased
Who is on kindness bent.
— Henry David Thoreau
3. Hate Is Only One Of Many Responses
Hate is only one of many responses
true, hurt and hate go hand in hand
but why be afraid of hate, it is only there
think of filth, is it really awesome
neither is hate
don’t be shy of unkindness, either
it’s cleansing and allows you to be direct
like an arrow that feels something
out and out meanness, too, lets love breathe
you don’t have to fight off getting in too deep
you can always get out if you’re not too scared
an ounce of prevention’s
enough to poison the heart
don’t think of others
until you have thought of yourself, are true
all of these things, if you feel them
will be graced by a certain reluctance
and turn into gold
if felt by me, will be smilingly deflected
by your mysterious concern.
— Frank O’Hara
4. Hate
I had a bitter enemy,
His heart to hate he gave,
And when I died he swore that he
Would dance upon my grave;
That he would leap and laugh because
A livid corpse was I,
And that’s the reason why I was
In no great haste to die.
And then – such is the quirk of fate,
One day with joy I read,
Despite his vitalizing hate
My enemy was dead.
Maybe the poison in his heart
Had helped to haste his doom:
He was not spared till I depart
To spit upon my tomb.
The other day I chanced to go
To where he lies alone.
‘Tis easy to forgive a foe
When he is dead and gone. . . .
Poor devil! Now his day is done,
(Though bright it was and brave,)
Yet I am happy there is none
To dance upon my grave.
— Robert William Service
5. Sonnet Xlviii: Cupid, I Hate Thee
Cupid, I hate thee, which I’d have thee know;
A naked starveling ever may’st thou be.
Poor rogue, go pawn thy fascia and thy bow
For some few rags wherewith to cover thee.
Or, if thou’lt not, thy archery forbear,
To some base rustic do thyself prefer,
And when corn’s sown or grown into the ear,
Practise thy quiver and turn crow-keeper.
Or, being blind, as fittest for the trade,
Go hire thyself some bungling harper’s boy;
They that are blind are often minstrels made;
So may’st thou live, to thy fair mother’s joy,
That whilst with Mars she holdeth her old way,
Thou, her blind son, may’st sit by them and play.
— Michael Drayton
6. Wrath And Rain
I woke up angry today
The taste of blood bitter and sweet
Clinging in the curves in my mouth
My teeth had split my lip in sleep
Through the window the sky is threatening to rain
My hand curl into fists, my nails digging into my palm
The chains of hatred creep and tighten around my throat
Around my wrists, simply all around me
The pain in this body is like a whip hitting
The monster that lives inside my soul
Splitting its skin and bringing it to the surface
I have to breath, I have to calm down
Outside the rain starts to fall in a Seattle mist
Building up in its own expression of mania
Turning into a hail storm that beats the house
I fall to my knees and scream in fury
Beating my fists against the floor in a frenzied rage
The hits barely audible above the scream of hail
I can’t fucking fight a sickness I cannot name
Each hit to the floor I wish for my fist to break
Begging for a physical injury instead of this weakness
That the bones in my hand would shatter
There is no enemy but this body of mine
No one to hurt but myself in this situation
No outside threat, just the family curse in my veins
There is nothing I can do and I fall back against the wall
Sobbing in sharp bitterness unable to breathe
The tears cut lines as they slide down my face
The bruises slowly blooming across my knuckles
Nothing will ever put out the wrath that lives in me
And death is but a coward for this approach
Maybe when this is all over the creature that made me
Will finally meet the wretched being they created
And when they do I hope I get to punch them
— BlueBeastGirl
7. Hate Poem
I hate you truly. Truly I do.
Everything about me hates everything about you.
The flick of my wrist hates you.
The way I hold my pencil hates you.
The sound made by my tiniest bones were they trapped in the jaws of a moray eel hates you.
Each corpuscle singing in its capillary hates you.
Look out! Fore! I hate you.
The little blue-green speck of sock lint I’m trying to dig from under my third toenail, left foot, hates you.
The history of this keychain hates you.
My sigh in the background as you pick out the cashews hates you.
The goldfish of my genius hates you.
My aorta hates you. Also my ancestors.
A closed window is both a closed window and an obvious symbol of how I hate you.
My voice curt as a hairshirt: hate.
My hesitation when you invite me for a drive: hate.
My pleasant “good morning”: hate.
You know how when I’m sleepy I nuzzle my head under your arm? Hate.
The whites of my target-eyes articulate hate. My wit practices it.
My breasts relaxing in their holster from morning to night hate you.
Layers of hate, a parfait.
Hours after our latest row, brandishing the sharp glee of hate,
I dissect you cell by cell, so that I might hate each one individually and at leisure.
My lungs, duplicitous twins, expand with the utter validity of my hate, which can never have enough of you,
Breathlessly, like two idealists in a broken submarine.
— Julie Sheehan
8. The Hate That I Hate
I hate the hate that resides in me now
I hate the hate that is so heavy it weighs me down
I hate the hate that keeps my emotions tightly wound
I hate the hate that charges my wall
I hate the hate that lies to strengthen my fall
I hate the hate that has me in chains
I hate the hate that courses through my veins
I hate the hate that is a shadow at my side
I hate the hate that has stolen my mind
I hate the hate that blinds me from the stars
I hate the hate that has created my war
I hate the hate that has stolen my grace
My scarlet letter written all over my face
— Adalie Hettie
9. I Hate
I hate,
hate that I can’t trust
I hate,
hate that I must lie because they’d rather believe I’m fine.
I hate,
hate who I’ve been.
I hate,
hate to make decisions.
I hate,
hate that I can’t hate those I should.
I hate,
hate my life.
I hate,
hate that I can’t die.
I hate,
hate to live in fear and hate.
I hate,
hate my uncertainty.
I hate,
hate the lies people tell me.
I hate,
hate that I believe.
I hate,
hate those that wish their lives were mine.
I hate,
hate all emotion that’s mine.
I hate,
hate that I need others.
I hate,
hate my own d*mn incompetence.
I hate,
hate that there’s so much to hate.
— Dama Tristeza
10. Love To Hate And Hate To Love
Am I sick cos I hate to hate you,
You made me hate you,
Let myself hate you,
When it’s all your fault,
…Cos you made me love you,
Yeah you made me hate to love you,
Now I hate myself.
So twist through time,
If you ever look back…
Admit you used me like the other damn Jacks!
So all that time you were lying?
All that time I was a fool?
Now this time I lay dying,
Drowning in this apathy pool,
These salted tears the gullable shed,
Well I’ve shed mine,
With guilt and dread,
Hear the voices,
Conscience in my head,
Now I can’t trust it,
My conscience’s dead.
Bittersweet, bitterweet tears run down,
All that time, I choked, I drowned,
I bled these thoughts again and again,
In my mind again, and again…
— Anita Clark
11. I Hate You
My mom always told me to never use that phrase,
but I’ve been alive for 22 years and in all of my days,
I’ve never hated anything as much as I hate you.
I hate you so much. I despise
you. You could ruin a sunrise.
You make me sick sometimes,
and what blows my mind
is I let you do it until I’m about to hurl.
I hate you more than anything else in this entire world.
I hate you.
Yet I still keep crawling back.
I hate you with every atom in my body,
every neuron in my brain.
Knowing you is hating you.
At times you make me feel insane.
I hate you because I can’t get you out of my mind,
and without you, efforts are futile when trying to unwind.
I hate you more and more each day,
and yet I can’t seem to find my way
out of your subtle grasp.
Sometimes you make me want to scream
until I wake up from this nightmare of a dream,
but my voice is nothing more than a rasp.
I hate you.
I hate you because the mere whiff of your scent can make me yearn,
even though I wish it make me choke in disgust.
No one to blame except myself, because I can’t seem to learn
that you are nothing but poison, and not worth my trust.
I hate how much money I’ve wasted for you.
Can you imagine my distaste to know how much we’ve gone through
just for nothing?
I hate you.
I hate that you make my life harder.
I hate how someday, I’ll just be another martyr,
an extra one to add to the number of lives you’ve cracked.
Oh, trust me, they count every one, they love to keep track
of it, so they can plaster it on commercials and billboards.
So much money wasted, people come to you in hoards.
I hate you.
I hate how you use different names to disillusion,
to trick the foolish into thinking you aren’t composed solely of demons.
I was foolish, too.
I hate that I’ve been told over and over the endless reasons
to quit you. Even self-help books don’t always result in your exclusion.
I hate you.
I hate everything about you, there’s nothing more I regret
than letting you into my life. You disgust me, cigarettes.
I hate you.
Yet I still keep crawling back.
— Sid Porter
12. Hate You, Love You
I hate you, I despise you.
You and your venomous words
That’s true.
There’s not much I can say that
I like about you.
I hate the way you look at me,
I hate the way you walk and talk.
The ways you make me feel so small,
Like I’m nothing at all.
Yet every time I see you, I get this fluttery feeling
and my heart rate rises to the ceiling.
I don’t want it but I can’t stop it,
I can’t hide it
I can’t stop hating you,
I can’t stop loving you.
– Maddie ‘Rae’ Berry, poemhunter.com
13. The Walls We Build
We build our walls layer by layer,
Our souls are beaten with stones of rage.
Clearly defined limits that divide
Until we discover the route of love to follow.
Every brick is a decision, every decision a chance,
In the never-ending dance of existence, to end the circle.
Behind the stone, where our emotions are imprisoned
But hope endures, and love is planted.
Using pride and terror as mortar,
We look for protection for what is kept inside.
But unity demands a greater grace.
Walls can be torn down and replaced with love.
Because barriers can fall and hearts can mend,
when compassion and empathy meet.
open minds and open arms,
It discovers a greater world within us.
So let’s continue to work together
To bend our will and break down the boundaries.
We will discover that the walls we construct
Can be reshaped in the embrace of love.
14. Echoes of Rage
In the hushed embrace of the midnight air,
Resounds the fervent wrath, an ardent affair.
A symphonic tumult, a tempestuous brawl,
Where fury and ire enthrall them all.
It rends asunder bonds once forged in steel,
Now fractured and fragile, they no longer conceal.
The echoes of rage, their cacophonous song,
Persistently linger, relentless and strong.
Once unbreakable ties, now fractured and torn,
In the wake of this tempest, in the night so forlorn.
What was once enduring, steadfast, and true,
Now lies in ruins, drowned in sorrow’s dew.
The symphony of anger, an unyielding might,
In the stillness of darkness, consumes the light.
And as the embers of fury continue to accrue,
All that remains is a bitter residue.
15. Blight
Hard seeds of hate I planted
That should by now be grown,—
Rough stalks, and from thick stamens
A poisonous pollen blown,
And odors rank, unbreathable,
From dark corollas thrown!
At dawn from my damp garden
I shook the chilly dew;
The thin boughs locked behind me
That sprang to let me through;
The blossoms slept,—I sought a place
Where nothing lovely grew.
And there, when day was breaking,
I knelt and looked around:
The light was near, the silence
Was palpitant with sound;
I drew my hate from out my breast
And thrust it in the ground.
Oh, ye so fiercely tended,
Ye little seeds of hate!
I bent above your growing
Early and noon and late,
Yet are ye drooped and pitiful,—
I cannot rear ye straight!
The sun seeks out my garden,
No nook is left in shade,
No mist nor mold nor mildew
Endures on any blade,
Sweet rain slants under every bough:
Ye falter, and ye fade.
– Edna St. Vincent Millay, poemhunter.com
16. Tangled Threads
There’s something i can’t undo,
In my thoughts I have already killed you.
I’m suffocating you with your own lies,
I’ll just have to wait until this love dies.
Succumb in my anger and wrath,
Dont walk through an ardor path.
Instead, tread the path of broken glass.
Feel what you made me feel at last.
I have no choice but to hate,
This is my fate you tried to create.
This was your choice, not mine.
If this is what you want, then fine.
In my hate you shall burn,
And no one shall mourn.
There’s no way out of this hell,
You’ll have no soul to sell.
– John Paul Ang, peomhunter.com
17. The Burning Flame
In the crucible of existence, where passions ignite,
Hate’s fervent flame blazes with unrestrained might,
A tempestuous inferno, fierce and dire,
Devouring all we cherish, all we admire.
It scorches the very essence of what we hold dear,
Reducing dreams and hopes to ash, it’s clear,
It blinds our hearts, shrouds them in a somber night,
Until we summon love’s radiant, healing light.
In the crucible of transformation, we must decide,
To quell the raging tempest, set hatred aside,
For in choosing love, compassion’s might,
We extinguish the flames, and reunite.
Let kindness and empathy be our guiding star,
As we rebuild what’s lost, near and far,
In the end, it’s love that will make us whole,
The salve for wounds, the balm for the soul.
18. Frozen Hearts
In the realm where Hate’s fierce flame does rage,
A tempest of anger, a fiery cage,
It burns with a brightness, relentless desire,
Consuming all in its scorching mire.
It devours all that we hold close,
Our cherished dreams, our hopes, our prose,
It blinds our hearts, obscures our might,
Until we choose to love, not fight.
But in the depths of darkness, there’s a chance,
To break free from Hate’s destructive dance,
To kindle a love that’s pure and true,
To let compassion and empathy renew.
So let us strive to quell the blaze,
Of hatred’s fire in these trying days,
For in the end, it’s love’s gentle light,
That can extinguish Hate’s burning might.
19. Indeed, Indeed I Cannot Tell
Indeed indeed, I cannot tell,
Though I ponder on it well,
Which were easier to state,
All my love or all my hate.
Surely, surely, thou wilt trust me
When I say thou dost disgust me.
O, I hate thee with a hate
That would fain annihilate;
Yet sometimes against my will,
My dear friend, I love thee still.
It were treason to our love,
And a sin to God above,
One iota to abate
Of a pure impartial hate.
— Henry David Thoreau
20. Never Say That Word
It is a small word
With a big bite,
The worst ever heard;
it is just not polite.
If you could hold it,
It would feel like a ton.
Beware not to use it;
it hurts, even in fun.
It never feels nice.
It should never be heard.
Please take my advice
and use another word.
You know how it feels
When someone says it to you.
It takes forever to heal,
Even though it’s not true.
You must not forget.
Never make that mistake.
You will live with regret
if you use the word HATE.
— Kevin T. Pearson
21. The Wounded Soul
In the depths of wounded hearts, we find,
The scars of hate, so intertwined,
A tapestry of pain and strife,
That marks the journey of our life.
Hate’s grip is strong, its roots run deep,
In wounded souls, its secrets keep,
But healing starts when we confess,
The hate that’s led us to distress.
To mend the wounds, we must unchain,
The anger that has caused such pain,
Replace it with love’s gentle grace,
And let forgiveness find its place.
With open hearts and open minds,
We leave the hate and judgment behind,
For in compassion, we’ll discover,
The path to peace, the way to recover.
So let us strive to be whole again,
Release the hate, let love remain,
And in the wounded soul’s rebirth,
Find harmony and peace on Earth.
22. A Choice To Make
A decision is made in the domain of existence,
And hate’s hold on our souls is ruthlessly shaken.
But destiny’s hand does not dictate;
We can fight for the sweet touch of love.
Before the shadow of twilight covers our sphere,
Let’s embrace love and allow it to get closer.
Our hearts will connect in unity’s embrace.
A peaceful tapestry, the human soul perfected.
We will discover the healing potential and the liberating remedy
By using compassion as our guide.
Because in the harmoniously intertwined symphony of humanity,
Love is the solution and our ultimate discovery.
Therefore, before it’s too late,
Let’s choose love so that it is not predetermined by destiny.
Our differences dissolve as we gain understanding,
A peaceful planet is enshrined in our hearts.
Short Poems About Hate
Short and pithy, these poems lay the heart bare with few words. When the emotion is strong enough and the words are chosen right, where is the need for extravagance?
23. Hate Is A Disguised Form Of Love
Hate is a disguised form of love.
You can only hate someone that you have the capacity to love because if you are really indifferent,
you cannot even get up enough energy to hate him.
24. Hate Is…
Hate is a feeling that boils with rage.
Hate is a feeling you lose with age.
Hate is a feeling that eats inside.
Hate is a feeling we all should hide.
Hate is the feeling we dont understand.
Hate is the feeling of losing our stand.
Hate is the feeling of a thing called fear.
Hate is the feeling that hurts in here.
Hate is a feeling that grows some more.
Hate is a feeling, what good is it for?
Hate is a feeling that you have too.
Hate is a feeling I have for you.
— Kev Elmer
25. I Hate It
I hate it when u look at me
I hate it when u smile ur smile
I hate it when u say hi 2 me and wave
I hate it when u think u noe everything
I hate it when ur with ur friends
and not me
I hate it when u don’t say hi
I don’t hate u
I just realized that I love u
I just hate it when u don’t do these things 2 me
I hate it when ur not around
I hate u
but I love u at the same time.
— Justine Ahumada
26. To One Hated
Had it been when I came to the valley where the paths parted asunder,
Chance had led my feet to the way of love, not hate,
I might have cherished you well, have been to you fond and faithful,
Great as my hatred is, so might my love have been great.
Each cold word of mine might have been a kiss impassioned,
Warm with the throb of my heart, thrilled with my pulse’s leap,
And every glance of scorn, lashing, pursuing, and stinging,
As a look of tenderness would have been wondrous and deep.
Bitter our hatred is, old and strong and unchanging,
Twined with the fibres of life, blent with body and soul,
But as its bitterness, so might have been our love’s sweetness
Had it not missed the waystrange missing and sad!to its goal.
— Lucy Maud Montgomery
27. I Hate Myself For This
I hate this person I’ve become
I hate who I am and who I thought I would never be
I hate my father for making me this way
I hate the selfishness I have now become
I hate the endless pain I put people through
I hate the way I hide myself in this pain
I hate the crazy world I’m living in called my life
I hate when my friends suffer because of my problems
I hate the fact that everything I’ve worked
so hard not to be is what defines me
I hate that people cant see who I really am
I hate that my heart is broken with no one to put it back together
Stay out of my life.
— Anonymous
28. 2Morrow
Today is filled with anger
fueled with hidden hate
scared of being outcast
afraid of common fate
Today is built on tragedies
which no one wants 2 face
nightmares 2 humanities
and morally disgraced
Tonight is filled with rage
violence in the air
children bred with ruthlessness
because no one at home cares
Tonight I lay my head down
but the pressure never stops
gnawing at my sanity
content when I am dropped
But 2morrow I c change
a chance 2 build a new
Built on spirit intent of Heart
and ideals
based on truth
and tomorrow I wake with second wind
and strong because of pride
2 know I fought with all my heart 2 keep my
dream alive.
— Emily Bronte
29. I Love Hate
I love hate; it’s plain to see
It fills the hearts of my enemies
It sucks out the life and joy from their souls
And where happiness was, it leaves a large hole
They like to spread rumors and go off on a rant
But ask’em for a reason, You Know! They just can’t
You see, Hate is just darkness, a disease of the mind
It soon affects everything; you’ll find it time
The way you talk to others, the expression on your face
You tend to lose compassion and be void of all grace
It just makes more enemies and never a friend
And when it’s all over, you’ll feel empty in the end
So I leave all the hate to those who revel in it
And get on with my life, Loving every minute
— JT Curtis
30. Hate
A choke on the river of joy
A berg in the sea of happiness
Hail in a shower of affection
Hurtling and hurting the heart
A feeling of utter loath
A taste of bile in the mouth
Fanned fires of internal malevolence
Flaming brands spewing black
An emotional roar of indignation
A mental synapse of misery
Bloody crucible of anger
Bleeding profuse profanities
An antithesis to all things lovable
Anticlimax to lovely pleasantries
Mercurial effort dislodging fun
Mindboggling evil splash
Vile!
— Gidraf Mwangi
31. Starved to Death
The relationship has starved to death
It’s finally breathed its very last breath
Year after year of waiting and hoping
Trying to find a new way of coping
Looking for promise and wanting to see
A glimmer of hope appear to me
We touched up the makeup on the deceased
The cold stiff body, its soul now released
The body was once a warm living thing
A vessel from which all hope did spring
Beaten and battered by lie after lie
Starved and neglected left out to die
It should have grown strong
And lasted so long
But cruel fate and uncaring hearts
Shredded and broke it to many small parts
The dead will be mourned and soon forgotten
The killers walk not knowing how wanton
Their hearts really are or what else has died
Dead is their love and dead they are inside
— Don Bower
32. Sonnet 142: Love Is My Sin, And Thy Dear Virtue Hate
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,
Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving,
O, but with mine, compare thou thine own state,
And thou shalt find it merits not reproving,
Or if it do, not from those lips of thine
That have profaned their scarlet ornaments
And sealed false bonds of love as oft as mine,
Robbed others’ beds’ revenues of their rents.
Be it lawful I love thee as thou lov’st those
Whom thine eyes woo as mine importune thee.
Root pity in thy heart, that when it grows
Thy pity may deserve to pitied be.
If thou dost seek to have what thou dost hide,
By self-example mayst thou be denied!
— William Shakespeare
33. I Had No Time To Hate Because…
I had no time to hate, because
The grave would hinder me,
And life was not so ample I
Could finish enmity.
Nor had I time to love, but since
Some industry must be,
The little toil of love, I thought,
Was large enough for me.
— Emily Dickinson
34. Hidden Discontent
In the abyss of shadows vast and wide,
My hidden feelings find a place to bide.
Within me dwells a person I despise,
A presence loathsome, under darkened skies.
Their very being grates upon my soul,
A bitter taste, a wound that takes its toll.
Dislike for them, a relentless chase,
A feeling I can’t shed or just efface.
In hidden corners, my disdain resides,
A secret turmoil that forever abides.
Their presence in my heart, a heavy weight,
A burden I can’t shake, an unrelenting freight.
With every passing day, it grows and swells,
This hidden discontent, like ringing bells.
I yearn for peace, a tranquil resting place,
But this dislike within me, I can’t embrace
35. The Good Man In Hell
If a good man were ever housed in Hell
By needful error of the qualities,
Perhaps to prove the rule or shame the devil,
Or speak the truth only a stranger sees,
Would he, surrendering quick to obvious hate,
Fill half eternity with cries and tears,
Or watch beside Hell’s little wicket gate
In patience for the first ten thousand years,
Feeling the curse climb slowly to his throat
That, uttered, dooms him to rescindless ill,
Forcing his praying tongue to run by rote,
Eternity entire before him still?
Would he at last, grown faithful in his station,
Kindle a little hope in hopeless Hell,
And sow among the damned doubts of damnation,
Since here someone could live, and live well?
One doubt of evil would bring down such a grace,
Open such a gate, and Eden could enter in,
Hell be a place like any other place,
And love and hate and life and death begin.
— Edwin Muir
36. Resentment Grows
In this realm of tangled human days,
Their deeds reveal their self-centered maze,
A soul I’d fain eschew, averse to trace,
Within, a burgeoning ire starts to blaze,
In chambers deep, where sorrow sows,
My heart bears the weight as resentment grows,
Their presence, a bitter pill, my spirit slows,
For them, my disdain like a river ever flows.
Though once, our paths in friendship’s light did blend,
Now fractured, torn asunder, we pretend,
To cherish bonds that time could not amend,
But in the hidden crevices, my emotions ascend,
As days and nights pass, in relentless throes,
In my heart’s dark corners, resentment only grows,
In this drama of life, where the curtain never close,
For them, my aversion is relentless, silent throes.
Yet hope remains that healing might arise,
That bridges once burnt can be rebuilt to skies,
Forgiveness sought, beneath the starry ties,
In whispered dreams, where redemption lies,
For in my deepest core, the compassion shows,
A seed of mercy amidst where resentment grows,
As time unwinds the wounds, our hearts enclose,
Perhaps, one day, a new understanding glows.
37. Toxic Presence
In the realm of life’s vast, turbulent sea,
There dwells a presence, toxic, yet free,
A person, like a shadow, haunts the air,
Whose presence I’d prefer not to bear.
Their negativity, a looming storm,
A tempestuous force, both dark and warm,
It weighs upon my heart, a heavy freight,
As I yearn to flee their cruel, relentless state.
In search of solace, I seek a brighter shore,
To cast away the chains this presence bore,
For in the distance, hope begins to sate,
The longing to escape their cruel fate.
In the boundless expanse of life’s grand design,
I’ll navigate away from this murky brine,
Towards a horizon where love can elevate,
And liberate my soul from their cruel fate.
38. Alas! This Is Not What I Thought Life Was
Alas! this is not what I thought life was.
I knew that there were crimes and evil men,
Misery and hate; nor did I hope to pass
Untouched by suffering, through the rugged glen.
In mine own heart I saw as in a glass
The hearts of others … And when
I went among my kind, with triple brass
Of calm endurance my weak breast I armed,
To bear scorn, fear, and hate, a woful mass!
— Percy Bysshe Shelley
39. Love Turned To Hatred
I will not love one minute more, I swear!
No, not a minute! Not a sigh or tear
Thou gett’st from me, or one kind look again,
Though thou shouldst court me to ‘t, and wouldst begin.
I will not think of thee but as men do
Of debts and sins; and then I’ll curse thee too.
For thy sake woman shall be now to me
Less welcome than at midnight ghosts shall be.
I’ll hate so perfectly that it shall be
Treason to love that man that loves a she.
Nay, I will hate the very good, I swear,
That’s in thy sex, because it doth lie there, –
Their very virtue, grace, discourse, and wit,
And all for thee! What, wilt thou love me yet?
— Sir John Suckling
40. No Room For Hate
I went to a house and walked up to the gate
A man came outside and his name was called Hate
He asked me a question would you like to come in?
I then thought for a moment hate is no kin
He then wanted to know what do you think of me?
I said in reply I still have no need of thee
Hate stood for a moment and began to shake his head
Maybe I’ll try and ask for his soul instead
Then he looked around and winked like a troll
What would you accept in exchange for your soul?
I looked at Hate with the blink of an eye
You’ll live in this house until the day you die
Hate said my house is large with lots of room
I told him where he lives is filled with doom
He then decided to give up on his quest
And said I will try to persuade another guest
— Patricia Grantham, poemhunter.com
41. Bitter Lies And Deceit
In the labyrinth of falsehoods deep,
Their lies and deceit, a wound that’s steep.
A person I resent, a timeless chill,
In shadows cast, they haunt me still.
No trust remains, like shattered glass,
Only disdain in the looking glass.
In my heart’s depths, a tempest’s reign,
They’ve caused great pain, a ceaseless bane.
Each falsehood spun, a tangled thread,
In the tapestry of deceit widespread.
A bitter pill, their web entwines,
In this somber dance of twisted lines.
Yet still, I strive to find the light,
Amidst this never-ending night.
For in the depths of pain and ire,
I seek a path to rise higher and higher.
Though bitter lies may grip my soul,
I’ll strive for truth to take control.
Through strength and courage, I’ll defeat,
The shadowy specter of bitter lies and deceit.
42. A Lingering Grudge
A grudge I hold, it won’t subside,
Deep within, where emotions hide.
For this person, I can’t confide,
In my heart, the anger’s tide.
Dislike festers, a lingering sore,
Each day it grows, I can’t ignore.
I’d rather see them walk out the door,
Leave my life, forevermore.
This resentment, like a shadow’s cast,
In my thoughts, it’s firmly clasped.
A heavy burden, a pain that’s vast,
From this grudge, I’m held steadfast.
I wish for peace, to find release,
From this feud, and inner unease.
But it lingers on, it doesn’t cease,
A stormy sea, with no calm seas.
So I carry on, with this grudge in tow,
Hoping someday, it will let go.
Until that time, I’ll let it grow,
This lingering grudge, my heart’s sorrow.
43. Sonnet 10: For Shame, Deny That Thou Bear’st Love To Any
For shame, deny that thou bear’st love to any
Who for thy self art so unprovident.
Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many,
But that thou none lov’st is most evident;
For thou art so possessed with murd’rous hate,
That ‘gainst thy self thou stick’st not to conspire,
Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate
Which to repair should be thy chief desire.
O, change thy thought, that I may change my mind!
Shall hate be fairer lodged than gentle love?
Be as thy presence is gracious and kind,
Or to thy self at least kind-hearted prove,
Make thee another self, for love of me,
That beauty still may live in thine or thee.
— William Shakespeare
44. A Final Farewell
In the depths of my heart, a decision I’ve made,
To part ways with you, the memories fade.
Our paths, once entwined, now drift apart,
For the dislike within, it’s time to depart.
The hurtful words and the wounds you’ve caused,
In my life’s story, you’re no longer paused.
The time has come to bid you adieu,
To find my peace, to start anew.
No longer will your shadow loom,
In the corners of my mind, a persistent gloom.
I release the anger, let it flow away,
As I step into a brighter day.
This final farewell, a chance to heal,
To let go of resentment, to finally feel.
In the end, it’s for the best,
To leave behind what’s caused unrest.
As I walk away from this bitter strife,
I’ll rebuild my world and embrace a new life.
With each step forward, I’ll find my way,
Dislikes in the past, a brighter future today.
Note: The poems in this collection are not original works of MomJunction but have been sourced from various authors. No claim of ownership is being made by us. Credit has been given wherever the details were available. If you are the original author of any poem and wish to have it credited or removed, please contact us. We value the creative rights of authors and will address your request promptly.
Frequently Asked Questions
1. What can we learn from poems about hate?
Hate is a potent, aggressive emotion that can have disastrous results. You can end up doing something you later regret. Hence, composing a poem, verse, or couplet about hate is a chance to let go of many of the horrific things you were feeling. You may be able to move on from the situation as it may have helped you better understand it.
2. What other emotions and experiences can be explored through poems about hate?
Poems about hate help us understand the reasons for our hatred. It also gives us a better understanding of the situation and our negative emotions, allowing us to vent our anger, acrimony, and frustration.
3. How do poems about hate differ from other types of poetry?
Poems or odes about hatred frequently highlight our rage, aggression, sense of abhorrence or revulsion, and other negative feelings toward a person or situation. On the other hand, a poem about falling in love may be composed for love, care, remembrance, or other delicate emotions that a person experiences regularly.
How have famous poets contributed to the theme of hate in literature?
Many renowned poets, such as Sylvia Plath and Edgar Allan Poe, have explored the theme of hate in their works and used it to convey complex emotions and societal critiques. Their contributions help us understand that hate is more than a negative emotion and a pivotal aspect of human experience.
Poems about hate are written when one has gone through deep emotional turmoil and has had their heart broken by their loved one. The feelings of detest and anger towards the person who caused the pain can be overwhelming and can find expression in poetry. If you have been through the same thing, this post on poems about hate will help you vent your hatred or loathe and also relate to the feelings that you have been going through. Give yourself time to process the emotions and heal through them. Take care of yourself and focus on making yourself better. Love will come along on its own eventually.
Key Pointers
- Hate is a powerful emotion that can create inner turmoil and consume you from within.
- Realizing that someone hates you can cause discomfort and disturb your peace of mind.
- Addressing feelings of hatred early is important to prevent them from overwhelming you.
- Expressing hate through words, like poetry, can help you heal and regain positivity.
- Hate poems are often written after experiencing emotional turmoil, such as a broken heart or betrayal.
Personal Experience: Source
MomJunction articles include first-hand experiences to provide you with better insights through real-life narratives. Here are the sources of personal accounts referenced in this article.
i. I am Angry (A Manifesto) – Free Verse Poem;https://whimsywriter3.wordpress.com/2016/03/06/i-am-angry-a-manifesto-free-verse-poem/
References
- Forgiveness: Letting go of grudges and bitterness.
https://www.mayoclinic.org/healthy-lifestyle/adult-health/in-depth/forgiveness/art-20047692
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