SACRED (Newest Urban Poem.)

I refuse to hate. I'm to busy learning to love myself. I need to love myself like I want to be loved, by someone else.

What have I to give if my heart becomes sour? To many feel in the secret places of their heart, that hatred is power.

I truly have nothing if I vie for your destruction. If I allow the hate of the world to take root in the fertile soil of my being, my soul, my very conscience, would cease to function.

I choose to exorcise my own demons by daring to care for others. I know it doesn't make me weak to see others as my sisters and my brothers. To treat you, like would treat my mother.

Sacred.

I have been accused of being pollyanic. But I think, like wine, the soul can be rich, warm and full flavored with out becoming too dry or tannic.

I get some people can never truly understand it. Love, respect and forgiveness is freely given but dies a cruel death when beaten,  commanded or demanded.

I've been chided and reprimanded. Because I refuse to be a lemming. But I choose to lead with love and respect and I'm left with no choice but to forgive the arrogant and condescending.

I will not dine on hate and evil. I will never think less of those who subjugate, hate and feel superior to other people. I will understand that they are servants to their fears. The rot of malice has poisoned their souls and eyes to the degree, that they are incapable of seeing the truth. Which is, we are, all of us, equal.

I can't open a closed mind. I can't force a door open when it was built to be shut through faulty architectural design.

No. I am not superior. No. I am not inferior. I am unique and while I am judged by my exterior, those who judge me with dehumanizing labels and stereotypes, will never see, let alone appreciate, the beauty of my interior.

Sacred.

I refuse to hate. I'm to busy learning to love myself. I need to love myself like I want to be loved, by someone else.

I will not dine on hate and evil. I will never think less of those who subjugate, hate and feel superior to other people. I will understand that they are servants to their fears. The rot of malice has poisoned their souls and eyes to the degree, that they are incapable of seeing the truth. Which is, we are, all of us, equal.

Sacred.

I am.

You are.

We are.

Sacred.