I saw hate scrawled
on rest stop walls.

I know how it is scratched in
the American skin
so deep that it has become the origin
of our country's identity,

but listen up closely
this isn't how it's supposed to be.

Cause you are as sweet
as the nectar from a tangerine;

As vibrant as the sounds of the tambourine,

though you let that corporate machine
destroy the music and taste of your being.

Mass media making a monstrosity of the populace,
turning crowd to this horribleness
that spits slanderous statements
of how and why we should hate other
men, women, and children,
how to see them as less than human,

but we are all sisters and brothers
in these struggles.

We suffer similar maladies,
falter and fail because of our shared
frailty and fallibility,
but I believe we have the ability
to be so much better.