Hateful Poem by David Welch

I don't like what they say,
they won't see it our way,
they rave and squawk,
proceed to talk,
shut them down, they're hateful.

They do not go along
with History's true song,
they shout and bray,
cling to their faith,
shut them down, they're hateful.

I never can explain
why they think they're John Wayne,
they all own guns,
often more than one,
shut them down, they're hateful.

They're ideas are quite berserk,
they fetishize hard word,
they'd force the poor
to hard labour,
cut them down, they're hateful.

They think that money spent
poorly by government
should be their own,
and spent at home,
cut them down, they're hateful.

So we'll march in the streets,
punch them when we meet,
we'll put the fist
to those fascists,
cut them down, they're hateful.

Don't look at me like that,
don't talk behind my back,
you know I ride
one with the tribe,
you cannot think I'm hateful.

Think of what we've endured,
who are you to say ‘impure, '
no one can sate
all those dictates,
You know that I'm not hateful.

You must resist the urge,
don't put me in the purge,
I heard the call,
marched with you all,
I swear that I'm not hateful!

Bang.