A Flip Flop Hate Drop!

The cat does it too. But you humans sure have more than a few. Each day there is probably 100 from each one. I'm not counting so we'll go with that under our sun.

I hate traffic.
I hate walking.
My, what a graphic.
Sure don't hate talking.

I hate heat.
I hate cold.
Aren't you sweet,
Like a growing mold.

I hate cities.
I hate towns.
Tell the committees,
They enjoy clowns.

I hate rain.
I hate drought.
Ain't that a pain,
As they cancel each other out.

I hate being alone.
I hate people living with me.
Good thing there's a phone.
Must rack up quite the sex line fee.

I hate science.
I hate religion.
So your alliance,
Is to a pigeon?

I hate sand.
I hate stone.
I guess life is grand,
On your plastic phone.

I hate working.
I hate not shopping.
Maybe try street corner twerking,
With a little pants dropping?

I hate age.
I hate the young.
Turn the page,
Your bell is rung.

I hate travel.
I hate staying in.
Life must unravel.
Isn't that a sin?

Do humans hear themselves some days? Like they are lost in a maze. Can't get out if only one is on the case. Need both to gain a middle embrace. Some are just hateful nuts I suppose, as they whine about the lows. The cat will just stick with the singing bass, even if I hate the repeat tune he sings to my little rhyming ass.

Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.