Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MY GUEST, by BEATRICE B. BEEBE



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MY GUEST, by            
First Line: A tiny hate came knocking at the door
Last Line: Hate alone was there, my soul, no more.
Subject(s): Hate


A tiny hate came knocking at the door
That leads into my very inmost soul.
It was so small, I took it in before
The world could know I'd made revenge my goal.
I closed the door and thought to keep it hid
From even my own eyes, until the hour
When I would call it forth again and bid
It act anew with its destructive power
To bring unhappiness to one who'd wronged
Me, at a time when I had needed most
A kindly hand, a word of cheer, and longed
For love. And so for hate I was the host.
Time passed. Again I opened wide the door.
Hate alone was there, my soul, no more.





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