My father hated me more than anybody else on Earth.
He hated me because my mother died in childbirth.
He constantly said that I should've died instead of my mother.
He beat me almost every day but he never once hit my brother.
He bought my brother Christmas presents but none for me over the years.
As I watched my brother enjoy his gifts, it always drove me to tears.
My father's last words to me were "I hope you burn in Hell."
I remember those painful words, I remember them well.
He hated me just as much as an adult, as he did when I was a kid.
But I have forgiven my father for the evil things that he did.
(This is a fictional poem.)