UnsungRequiem
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This is a political poem, if you do not enjoy political poetry or
politics in general do not read.
I actually wrote this in late 2004, early 2006 or so.... It seems to
be very apt now, more than ever.
(No it doesn't rhyme, yes it has a meter and a beat.)
Hate :
I have been asked a question.
Is hate bad?
My programmed mind screams yes.
But, I silence it and look inside.
I find Eons of hate within my veins.
I find my patriot flag painted with hateful colors.
I find hate has been the sole motivating force in human history.
From hating another tribe,
To hating another village
To hating another kingdom
So this pattern is in my blood.
And will be in my son's...
America...
'Merica as some deem it.
Was built on Hate
Founded by a unifying hate of religious and governmental expression.
By a country who crusaded against those in a supposed promised land
and brought hate to them for hundreds of years.
We hated the british, until we hated each other.
All the while, we hated our minorities...
Irish need not apply, Mick.
After we settled our score against each other, we looked south.
Then east, Russia, Germany, Italy, Japan ...
We took turns hating this quintet of Evil...
We ended on a cold war, only to remember our blood and that once we
were hater's of a desert people who lived in a holy land.
How would our ForeFathers gaze upon their children now?
Our Freedom limited, our rights restricted...
In my blood I remember my hate, I remember I was hated.
In between these broadly painted strokes,
Lay minor sketches of personal prejudice...
But in these prejudices, lie our own convictions..
We oft hate those with conflicting or unfamiliar views.
The glory of our forefathers, the joy of free speech.
Is being able to listen to a person denounce at the top of their
lungs, that which I would spend a lifetime proclaiming at the top of
mine.
We are truly the bastard children of our ForeFathers.