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The dream is the thing. A slilent scream but who is listening? Who cares? |
As I begin to dream each day of things that I am not and hope for thing that I can not have. |
Simple things of love and hope. Dreams of a world where others love one another but |
instead there is just more hate. One man is black and another yellow yet all have blood of red. |
Do we have to spill their blood just to find out we are all the same? |
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