I Hate Hate

Passions run deep where rivers flow with

Needs that flex and stretch and grow,

And somehow no one seems to know

Who stole the bounty, seized the gold.

 

Hate becomes the chosen game,

Those not like us assigned the blame

And naught can ever be the same

When stories have, at last, been told.

 

Nothing in a civil sphere

Can sanctify the bane and fear

That hate can transfer far and near

To paint the world in black.

 

And every parcel of dispute

Can be repaired beyond repute

If understanding in pursuit

Is used to stay on track.

 

Hate can never win the day.

It just exacerbates.

And I declare, decree, decry this motto:

I hate hate.