A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunnèd it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole:
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

I really think this poem relates to everyone. It's like when you get in a fight with a friend and you go to another friend or family member and rant and rave about why you are angry and eventually the steam runs out on the issue at hand, but on the other hand a person you don't like and don't plan on getting to know that you have an issue with could keep popping up. Maybe they have no idea that you like them, but then at the end of the poem it makes me think that the "foe" does know that the author doesn't like them, but they really don't care. I think that is the hardest thing. When a person knows you are so angry with them, but it never seems to cause them any grief and you are so upset and continue to get more and more upset about it.It seems like the more you think about the foe in your life, the madder you get and the more you find to rant and rave about. Your wrath grows and grows and it never gets let out and it never ends and finally in the end you realize your wrath means nothing to the foe and that fact may even make your wrath grow to a greater height. I really think this is a poem about real life and I really enjoy it the more I read it.