Perfect.

A soft exterior
hides the rotten core.
Clean cut edges don't always make you nice.

I used to hate you.
You took everyone from me, acting like it was no big deal.
You're a thief.

Somehow though...we're the same.
Only through heritage.
Nothing else.

Are you ashamed to say I'm one of you?
Half only.
That must make me a fool of our country.

We grew closer though...I don't know why.
Or how.
We "bonded".

But now here we are again.
Now it's a love/hate relationship.
And I don't know what's going to happen.

You've twisted things
so that you can still do damage
and play it off as a joke.

It's not a joke.
You don't want to be near me
but won't admit it.

I can take a hint.
But maybe
you don't want me to go?

When you finally make up your twisted mind,
let me know.