Hate

You wrap it in legality

make laws to legislate

your emotional state.

You wrap it up in words

and put it to a vote.

To protect the children

you say, from difference

from things out of your

preferred state of is and will be.

Hate

You justify it

in your religion and philosophy

branding all those different

Using the Bible like a weapon

to bludgeon those who oppose

the state of is and should

be in your frightful emotion

Gay, Straight, black, white

maybe they dress in green

Maybe the only proper coupling

to you are those blond haired

and blue eyes. Maybe

you hide your plan for

the master race.

Wait? You think your different?

But you use your law like an arrow

your beliefs like a mace, a club,

a shotgun shell, primed and loaded

to be shot, and drive before

you all those

who are not

just like you

That don’t fit your ideal

Maybe they’re too poor

too wealthy, maybe too gay

or straight. Maybe too black

or too white, or some other skin

color that isn’t the same as yours

Who are you to decide who its okay

to love, to lust after, to make

a lover or take as a mate.

Oh that’s right..you and your hate

wrapped up so tight you can’t see the

end of it.

Tell me you are different.

Look to your left.

Look to your right.

Is there anyone there you don’t include

in your ideal? Brother lets talk about the

plank up your backside. It isn’t in your eye.

Its about the justification of oppression

and the repression of anything that doesn’t

fit your perfect vision of how its to be,

maybe you should contemplate just

a bit about your hate.

Difference abounds all around,

doesn’t matter which, where, or

who, but as you hate you separate

you draw lines and say, no that’s not

hate, its law, or faith. But let me

put it to you this way. Is it? Can you

say you’ll be pleased with a fate, built

on that bitter seed within your heart.

Judge not. Lest you be judged.

Judge me, Judge yourself.

Look in the mirror, for that’s

all you really see. Justified

however you want, but its hate

reflected back. Not something really,

in me.

A poem inspired by a friends poetry..

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