Your talent offends me.
The craft you display,
the capacities you’ve reached
so quickly, smoothly,
so fucking effortlessly,
it rankles this old soul.
It berates my ability.
It mocks me entirely.
It shames my skills
and my existence.

Goddamn you
and your amazing art!

What you make
with such ease
makes me need to ease you
straight out of existence.

I want you gone from this world
so there is a chance for me
but I know full well
how much we’d all be punished by that.
You are to good
to be allowed to quit.

So you’ve got a stay of execution,
you asshole,
so long as you produce
all the stuff
that makes me hate you.

Fuck you.

About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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