To my Owner

Dislike, unlike the feeling
found in other people's sonnets,
leaves me empty, stealing
joy and leaving irritation on its
own to tap a left, right, left,
right rhyme and rhythm
out of tiresome words, bereft
of passion, stuffed with boredom.
That's enough: I'll end my verse
with something more exciting
than the way you smugly purse
your lips and trash my writing.
Love for life, my family and friends
is where my poetry begins and ends.