[Note: This is the first poem I've written in literally years, so pardon any imperfections. It stems from a place of inspired insight and first-hand observation.]
Personality like an anchor;
That soul will latch on to you
and drag you down into
the murky depths of
its own miserable existence.
Aura like a black hole;
Spreading sadness and
a moping lethargy
further and further into
its surroundings.
Attitude like a spoiled victim;
That soul will beg for help
and, when given,
nothing is ever good enough
and nothing is ever right.
Face like a succubus;
So pretty on the outside
but all it wants is to
bleed you dry
and disappear into the night.
Heart like a bitter old hag;
Where once there was goodness
there lies only bitter hatred
and high expectations for
the world to serve up happiness...
... when the only one who
could ever provide that
is the very same old, bitter hag.
Personality like an anchor;
That soul will latch on to you
and drag you down into
the murky depths of
its own miserable existence.
Aura like a black hole;
Spreading sadness and
a moping lethargy
further and further into
its surroundings.
Attitude like a spoiled victim;
That soul will beg for help
and, when given,
nothing is ever good enough
and nothing is ever right.
Face like a succubus;
So pretty on the outside
but all it wants is to
bleed you dry
and disappear into the night.
Heart like a bitter old hag;
Where once there was goodness
there lies only bitter hatred
and high expectations for
the world to serve up happiness...
... when the only one who
could ever provide that
is the very same old, bitter hag.