It is fine to hate, hate bad ideas, damaging ideologies, suffering, violence, and greed. However, hating people, diminishes the hater. Any system or person that props itself/themselves up on the basis of hating people damages humanity, and decreases our ability to build a better brighter future.

Barely beyond seven years,
I was a small brown-haired boy
biking in a small town.
Till, I found
a little feisty dog
angrily yapping
and snapping
at me
when I tried to be friendly.

Older by three or four years,
walking out of the housing
down alleyways
on my way to school.
Till, I met a big dumb dog,
friendly enough
and playful to boot,
just a little too rough
as it nibbled at my shoe,
then tugged at my pants.
It would not let me get away
scraping my legs
and making me late to school.

Almost thirty
working at Diary Queen,
dating some creepy girl
who was really mean,
and had a pit.
Poor dog had been abused,
kind of aggressive
when it wanted attention,
kind of dangerous
if you had your hands up,
bit and scratched me
a little too much
playing just a little too rough.

He was slow and slurred
in a stupidly stumped stupor
and in my naivete
I cared for him
because of my innate
sense of sympathy.
Until, the thieving
and harassment
finally took me
to the limits
of my patience.

It is a cold-hearted comparison
but I liked those dangerous dogs
more than that **** and ******
addict.

On T.V. I see the poppies grow
Between the stalks I see the ghosts
Acquaintances, lovers, enemies, friends
Strange that an innocent plant
Brought about​ their ends

Many times it nearly killed me too
Slumped, choking, pin-eyed, turning blue
But I managed to swim against the stream
Pulled myself painfully out of the dream​

Too many I knew didn't survive
Their families crying at the grave side
The earth fell to the coffin from out of their hands​
Because of a plant that grows in Afghanistan

Struggling farmers grow it to keep their families alive
Smugglers carry it across the waters wide
Every mile that it travels, the price it inflates
It ends up on an English council estate

Shoplifters and burglars walk the grey, rainy streets
When darkness comes the working girls pound their beat
Warily watching​ through windows​
The dealers do what they can
Selling powder from a plant that grows in Afghanistan