sun ,  
i hate you.
    I hate you as you rise,
  as your gerber face creeps over the grass.
i  hate the purple water and the ants
   which march in unison to battle drums .
  i hate the orange juice smile as you pack away your things,
  i hate the
  whisper when it's already lost.  miles ahead,
   i hate a few things -- but the list gets shorter as i get
   older.
why hate what you cant change?