I Hate You.

7.9.16

I hate you.

You turn men into saints

and others into sinners.

No matter what side of your form I am on,

I will still be guilty.

They shine you up

and polish you down

hold you with conviction

some even tear up the town.

I hate you.

You killed two cousins of mine.

I hate you.

You make people blind with fear

You make them hold onto you oh so dear.

Yet, your victims’ families are forced to let go.

Yes, because of you,

they are forced to let go.

Don’t point in my direction

I ain’t stroking your ego.

You make people believe they need you to survive.

You’ve somehow convinced them

your pellets will dry the tears from their eyes.

You make revenge

a necessity

and a task too easy to complete.

You can add a silencer to your nozzle

and make your dirty work oh so clean and so neat.

I hate you.

Your owners scream

they have every right

well, I’m screaming,

I’m putting up a fight.

I’m sick of the violence

and those who put their trust in you

they can’t see what I see

noble blood they swear they belong to.

Congress doesn’t even have the nerve

to rival you up

tighten up the laws

have science research your stuff.

You have a large following

that no one can deny

even where strict laws reign

you find ways to enact pain.

And you have no remorse

you have no feeling

how could you,

you’re a piece of metal

you’re memory is fleeting.

A stronghold on society

oh so strong

killing hundreds after hundreds

forget “can’t we all just get along?”

Illegal or legal,

you’re easy to obtain

Sane or insane,

you fire all the same.

Irrational, paranoid, delusional, too,

fearful, revengeful

Yea, I got your number, too.

You got them thinking the 2nd Amendment

gives them every right for you to make others bleed

funny, oh, so funny, what really planted that seed?

The war is within our borders

people getting shot down left and right

we need to stand together

be unified in this fight.

You’re dirty.

I hate you.

You steal away men’s souls.

You’re rigid armor means nothing to me.

You’re freakin’ out of control.

A kid in high school one day,

a three-year-old kills herself on another

the safety was not on.

You still think you’re innocent and you shouldn’t suffer?

Many reading this will think

wait till she gets into trouble

she’ll wish you were there

in all the chaos and the rubble.

And I won’t lie, I will feel fear

I will quake in your presence

I will shut my eyes tight

and know you are more than a menace

you’re an addiction, a terror, a king of all kings,

you elicit fear, spear on hatred, you’re a horrid, horrid thing.

Are you gonna save me?

As I stare down the barrel of your cave?

What are you hiding within your bullets?

How many black men have you sent to the cage?

How many young lives have your ruined?

How many lives have you spent?

You hold no sorrow, no remorse,

you are not heaven sent.

I run from you

because I hate you

because you’re killing hope everywhere.

Because people can’t decide

if you should be shunned, or hidden, or spared.

I get the arguments for you

and I do agree with some

but I’ve had enough with patience.

Something has to be done.

You’ve got boisterous owners.

Ironically, they’d fight to the death to protect their right to own you

You do know you’re owned?

And that a man or woman directs you?

And yes, I guess, some use you to hunt and provide,

but human beings been caught up

been the target of much pride.

Your power here is remarkable

After centuries, you’re as American as American can be.

People tell me that you protect them

It is an honorable decree.

But the fact remains,

you’ve killed thousands

and the numbers are only growing

and police join the ones

behind the barrel of you guns,

and the death toll keeps on going.

I hate that you’ve convinced us

you are the ultimate source of protection.

Take the guns away from criminals, I know,

is a far-fetched suggestion.

But

that doesn’t stop me from hating

the havoc that’s ensued,

And I know they say it’s the people

and not the guns acting like fools.

Perhaps it is not your fault.

You’re not human, you’re inanimate.

But your impotence in that sense

is really power in disguise,

and with the shrouded power,

becomes death, destruction, and lies.

You’re harmful, as inanimate you may want to look,

I can see your tyranny.

I can read you like a book.

You are society’s toy,

as well as our tool,

they keep you in their backpocket,

and I pray they don’t act a fool.

Because senseless men can be trigger happy-

and the hotheaded ones are guaranteed

to grab right for that pistol

and cause a little trouble, don’t you see?

If we could take you out of the equation,

I’m not saying violence would cease to exist,

but if hotheaded joe had no pistol,

he’d have no urge to resist.

And I don’t care how much you will fight me.

Go ahead and debate.

Count the lives of all you’ve ended,

if it’s less than a hundred,

then, I’ll have rescinded.

But it’s not, is it?

It’s not enough less than a thousand.

Yes, I hate you, how I hate you.

I hate how much they love you.

I hate how they hug their guns

like little boys

hugging their toys.

I hate how they depend on you

make them feel safe and grown up, too,

all the while you wreak havoc across this great earth.

Man, I hate you,

I mean, Gun, I hate you.

If only you could feel hate.

It would knock you dead, it would.

Wait. Do you feel that, pistol? Wait for it…yes, it’s called, self-hate.

And I wish that upon you.