I Hate The Facts Poem by Val Brooklyn Rogers

I hate when he's always away.
I hate that he's not home to stay.
The slamming of the prison gates,
I hate all those fates.

I hate the news reports of omenous times.
And the fear it brings.
The approach of another day
The flight of the sun and the moon.

Preachers say don't loose faith
A day gone to soon
I hate a drastic ruin
I loath a dimly lit room

Why is reality here at all
Just to punish the vulnerable
Even the small
How do nations rise and fall?

I hate these numerous facts.
The fate that hates humanity back.
I hate the innocent suicides.
And the tears that swell my eyes

I hate the torment of wretched souls
Give them room to breathe and share
Out what they need.
Release the ones who will be forever free.

I hate the danger of a loaded gun.
Freedom has a soul.
LET IT ROAM.
WHO'S names are written on the weeping
Wall of prayer and fear?

I wish he were here
I hate the feeling of alone.