We learn it well when we are young
Those bitter words spit from the lips
Do battle with our mother tongue
Masha was Mary when she left the boat
A new name given for a new land
Still she was teased and called "greenhorn"
By a father she couldn't understandHate has a language
The lady asked Bubbe how we spelled our name
Is that "-son" with an "e" or an "o"?
I just wanted to play in the pool
But they had their quotas, ya know
Hate has a language
Why is my Daddy chasing that man
And why did he call him a "kite?"
They explained it later that night
Hate has a language
submitted for Poetry Potluck Week 18
Thanks, Jingle!
