Herbert Nehrlich

Rookie (04 October 1943 / Germany)

Hate? - Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

So what's this thing the world calls hate,
are humans capable to fabricate the stuff?
Does it occur when men debate,
when words can trigger something known as huff?
I think that hate is natural and innocent
far worse is something that can well arise
inside a human being just to circumvent
an honest thought for others, it is stained with lies.
Let's talk to those who sit there on the garden fence,
and do not know which way to go to play it cool,
once eyes look through the clouds of a distorted lens
you've got the monster called indifference, you fool.
Hate is aversion from a subject or from man
only if hate meets hate will denigration reign,
indifference shows clearly that it truly can
not care and all the efforts of pure reason are in vain.
Those who would point their index fingers, full of scorn
may harbour embers from the darkness of a past
and men with eyesight will see clearly a small horn
spring from the forehead where the devil's dye is cast.


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Poem Submitted: Saturday, June 28, 2008



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