The Beloved and that Hatred In Oneself

In a culture sad and pedantic, Your creed never summons to disbelief, A new day everyday was something completely innovative, Repetitively was never on the menu, You were different, diligent and unkind, But for every negative trait you possessed You made amends by being true to yourself. In all respects I wish I could be like you. A mentor of sorts and a purveyor of a true human being, Never ceased to be perfect, but you tried to be so damn close. By no means afraid of failure or a difficult task ahead You keep yourself arcane, expected to be turned away at any given moment. And for that I thank you, my indestructible omen. I wish I had the audacity that you seize every single day, But for now I’ll be what I’ve grown to be, Be what I’ve grown to dislike infinitely , To tollerate myself completely, but when will I realise, That I’m only human, but it’s impossible to love what I’ve become.