erica green


The Hate, The Viloence


The hate,
The Violence,
always here,
always fear,
the poor inocent,
sufering in darkness,
god has a purpose,
we arent all perfect,

The hate,
The Violence,
tears of silence,
as the hated walk the halls,
with guns in there hands,
seeking the unhated,
as they now say save me,
this is a dream,
as they are now starting to figure,
they are the hunted by the hated,
the one's whos life was ruined,
humiliated,
they remember,
they nights they cry alone,
not sleeping,
waiting for tomarrow to come,
today they were suppose to get jumped.

The hate,
The violence,
it's their fault.

They are ruining this world and great people

Submitted: Monday, December 10, 2007
Edited: Sunday, October 28, 2012
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (The Hate, The Viloence by erica green )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Estrange, micheal john
  2. J'attendrai, Michael Mira
  3. Peace, Sandra Feldman
  4. Poetry And All Of Me, Rites Ghosh
  5. Forgotten, david kush
  6. House of Weeping Walls, Michael Mira
  7. Vicky - Lincoln Park Zoo, Ima Ryma
  8. Dangerous Mind Games, Michael Mira
  9. To My Dear Poet Pablo Neruda on...If You.., Geetha Jayakumar
  10. A Matter Of Time, John Garth Raubenheimer

Poem of the Day

poet Pablo Neruda

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]