Look at him.

I don’t often write poetry. I leave that to my mother – it’s her passion.

However, occasionally it is the only way to portray how you feel. You can find no prose can do that. Only poetry.

Here he is

Just look at him now

That haunted face and tragic eyes

His pretentious stance and lying smile

Just look at him. I can’t.

I can’t look at him

And search for the love he massacred

The truth he corrupted

The stolen protection

Just look at him

What he did to me

The soul he destroyed

The heart he bruised with his malicious words.

Just look at him and tell me –

Is he the man you thought he was?

Gentle, generous and kind

Or hateful, hurtful and cruel

Just look at him.

How does he make you feel?

Repelled, repulsed and desperate to leave

Hurt and betrayed

A stranger to the world

Just look at him

See the truth

See the misery, see the stress,

Look into his lifeless, rotten heart

Look into the lies and the horror

The anger he felt.

Look at him

Witness it

Here he is

The man I hate

The man who hated me.

Look at him

Can you find it?

The love for his daughter

The want for her happiness

The ache for her success

What do you see?

Look at him

He rages at me

He sees failure

A filthy creature with vile ideas,

A worthless animal with the coldest heart,

A nothing with no one to love her,


Look at me. Just look at me.


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