Hate is an acquired taste
Something that is learned,
Hard and bitter on the tongue.
To be swallowed by the young,
As it is put on the spit to braise 
And baste in its own marinade,
An acid of its own vitriol. It ought
Not be left to its own game or even
To its own name, so shameless it is
As it feigns to be blameless. Though
Coy, the hater means to be mean,
Means to demean and to berate.
His presence and voice will grate
But are not worthy of debate.