This poem is by request of one of my students, who asked I write about hate… 

There is a hate that scalds the heart
leaving welts upon the soul
bright red marks, that disfigure and distort:
marks that,
while more addition than subtraction,
still leave a person
slightly less
than whole.

This hate burns with a fiery passion
all its own,
devoid of reason or logic,
it drives one to madness,
eating away at the fabric of ourselves
leaving nothing but cinders
of who we used to be.

It torches the kind
and makes them mean,
the simplest remark untended
fuels the engine of
an all-consuming hate
lashing out at the guilty
and innocent
alike.

But worse still
is the hate that freezes
harder than ice
or stone.

This hate locks all feeling
away,
deep within the darkest
reaches of ourselves,
numbing us to all that
is beautiful and good
in the world.

It isolates and deadens
all the nerve endings
of our heart
leaving an icy shell
incapable of trust or love.

Be wary of the soul scarred by flame
for it will seek to hurt
as it has been hurt,
but run from that turned to ice
for it is destined to carry
misery in its wake.

One consumes its bearer.
The other consumes all around.