what is the cure? Those who choose to hate and anger

But... what is the Cure?!

But... how can we ever hope to cure those
Who prefer to hate and rage...Who follow blindly their puppeteers,Memorizing each slanted page
Of lies and violent darkness
From which they learn but evil...And thus are sown the rotting seeds,The choice of willing weevils

For which there seems no cure.Good men may attempt to compensate
And overlook their differences,To meekly even propitiate...And still... there seems no cure...If one doesn't admit to being ill.And thus... the split does widen
To depths that will not be filled.

A note: just one occasion in recent history
They eagerly did choose
To leave a nation united...But they were sure to lose.Their deficiencies demanded yet to beat ,Their rage to never end
Fanned by illogic, jealousy, and ignorant fear...Unending messages to send.

 To those that wish to shake the hand
Which much prefers the gun
And hence I say: so be it...Your choice is that of 1
Refusing to find out what's simply true
And real and wise and caring,Instead of being a low-down bully
Intent on hurtful bearing.

 A preference for bitterness,Hollow eyes which view all life
With limited ways ill-chosen,Fostering backward fears and strife.And so, you see... a cure is duly shunned
By those of cult-like ways,Instead of living creatively,Instilling value to every day.

And if they choose so willingly
To walk the lesser way...Well then, I understand, dear puppets,It is your choice than to play
This silly, senseless waste of your time ...This foolishness to win or lose,Intent on feeding divisiveness
By their useless game of Reds or Blues. 

Life may be a gift... for all to measure ...Not a race declared as winner.Better to take a seat down with friends
And share a well-cooked dinner.It's what you create thereupon given gift...In truth and keen reality,To live your life well-managed,Most wisely and creatively. 

It's what you create of who you're ...And those perceptions you'll choose.Life may be a deserved privilege...Not a "race" to win or lose.United, then, we might not be,As i select to not be your brother...For you are doing strangle all that's good...Your joy is but to smother.

 To smother the planet , the air we breathe,Destroying aimlessly...Taking away the enjoyment of life,And if you would like to be free...Then hunker down, on your own ground,And let others be free
To choose what's wise and true,To live creatively.

Thanks for reading.

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