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hate the minds not like you
hate the ones not of your faith
hate them that question you
hate that the world is diverse
and not converging to your views
hate when there's nothing left to hate

**yourself.
We weather the storms
Standing tall in the wind
Holding tight to our dreams
We break or we bend

Existing is simple
It's living that's hard
We collect life's lessons
And save them in jars

In the heaviness of hearts
We begin to fade
Losing parts of ourselves
Along the way

Still we stand tall
Holding as tight as we can
Somehow growing stronger
In the inevitable end...
Traveler Tim
Re to 02-18
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