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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1708165

the hardest thing on earth to do is to love, to hate is very easy.

hatred

cut me open
and you shall see
what flows in me
differs not from thee
what runs through me
runs through thee
then what's the use in hating me.

so, no matter the color of our skin
or the threading of our hair
and what not so ever you may or can compare
we all still breath from the same air.
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