Hatred is a poison that fills your body. It becomes impossible to think of anything else but the object of your hatred. If you don't encounter the person you hate for.
This is a love poem about hating someone who hurts you but whatever you do, you cannot refrain from loving them. It's about someone in the past who I have.
Currently, I'm reading Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass, a poetry collection, for English class. Eurgh. It's difficult because while some of what he writes intrigues.