The Balance

Seems we love to hate and hate to love,      
keeping kindness reserved for those who seem to "deserve it," never spilling a drop for fools, is this not the way it should be ?                    
                   
Take heed, you ingrates! You ungrateful swine, grasping, staring, asking, is something wrong, yet blind to all that's right, You say you love all, but love nothing.                    
                   
Taking empty words as comfort, numb inside to the actuality of what love is , devoid of the ability to feel, your apathetic approach to love does not dwindle, living in your insecurities the facade called a reality.                    
                   
You can’t love everyone, why even try?          
         
Yes a delightful thought,but how exhausting, how absurd,  how preposterous to think, you could stretch love so thin, grasping, grabbing trying to find meaning in a empty notion.          
                   
Love everything and everyone you say?            
                
O you poor judge of hearts, you spread love out like dust, and all that remains is ash,                    
carried off with the first breath of a summers breeze.          
                
That which could be considered, nugatory, otiose, and vain, O such empty words absent of value, said with shallow emotion, sprinkled without honesty in generous disillusion.                         
O how we love to love,  how is this love ?                           
Are we so desperate to hear these words,        
We will accept all the nothings as truth,     Just as rain drops falling on a thirsty ground are swallowed up  
                        
It's seems only logical, for in loving less,                    
one might love more, as the rain fill the puddle and stream, that create the great lakes , then to love less more is far better than to love more less.        
                 
A little kept closer, like precious trinkets guarded in a fine chestnut box. A stronger flame, bright enough to see the world or would you prefer a dimly lit room where shadows claw at your emptiness in dark.          
                   
Love used freely, falls hollow and misspent it's lifes gift cast to the ground squandered like seed plucked by the hungry birds, how can this be for what love exists.                  
                 
Love the worthy, fiercely, unspent, completely in entirety, cast the unworthy shadows for the lost, bare not a breath or whisper for the undeserved as life shall be their fair master.        
                 
Why turn the other cheek to a foe? Can we not hold both, love and hate in equal measure, to explore and exploit, each in their time.                  
                 
Bent not to forgive all or fooled to forgive nothing? Shall I continue to love and forgive until I truly hate or hate until forgiveness finds loves door.                  
           
How can I live this way, feeling lifes indifferences then saying I know love and hate, that I love all and hate nothing, how absurd of notion indeed.                
                   
To love everything is, to love nothing,                    
what’s the difference? To say "I love you" without depth, conviction or meaning is a wound left open, watched from a distance as the holder bleed out slowly in quiet unknown despair.                  
                   
Hate where hate belongs, lift it from your loved shoulders, use it to cleanse yourself of the weight of the shame, that turns love into bitterness and cold.                  
                   
To hate and to love is equal portions, while the deserving we pull near, shunning the ignominious ensuring there is no loss in the quality of word and feeling in each exactness.                  
Is love not but the honesty to say, I love, and I hate and I know truth by knowing both, feeling each deeply and whole in an unbiased soul.                  
I guess there is a thin line between love and hate, each there own time and space, like the sun and moon are part of day and night, each have there own place.                  
                 
The sun does not love the moon as does the moon not hate the sun. How Is it possible to know the one, and not the other.                    
                   
O how have we love , Loving with a clenched fist,  Our proven devotion in shattered fears, with blood and fire, loving until bodies fell in the collected tears  "all for the grace of love."    
                 
Why humiliate ourselves, by lower our souls, how do we love thy neighbor when we do not know the meaning of loving oneself, drawing false lines to hide our own capacity to feel?                
Where in honesty each emotion holds it's own virtues, Yes, our hearts do hold both: light and darkness, love and hate. To hold one, you must hold both and perhaps, when we do, we might truly and finally love.