To Hate a Man

To hate a man is to smile at him,
To hate him is to believe his lies,
And gaze deeply into those tired brown eyes.

To loathe a man is to care for him,
To loathe him is to love him,
It is to trust him.

As the flower withers, so do his words,
When fall arrives, so does solitude,
To hate a man is to treat him as your fortitude.

When knots are untangled,
One becomes strangled,
A string once a bridge, now cut.

Staring at the misty ridge,
The man departs on foot,
Only then do I become mute.