It's Nothing More

As I lay down for bed
I sense you in my head
As I eat my dinner plate
I don't feel anything but hate
As I try to sit here and think
I watch the bloody red ink
Smudge me with the sin of love
I know nothing's white as a dove
Mark me with the vengence of hate
You have until eight
Cut me down with a stone of what's true
That's all I've spoken to you
I hope you see this tradgic sign
I hope you see this isn't divine
Spoiled mind, I cast you away
Starve again, for one more day
Think about all you want
I'll linger in what was taught
My childish poem, it reads:
Am I really such an evil deed?