H A T E

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Sometimes I wish
my dreams were
reality.

In my dream I
could escape the
chaos of life.

In my dream I
could go back to
the simple times.

Back to the times when
I was little and hadn't
a care in the world.

Back to the times where
all I knew was love
and hate was a mere ghost.

But dreams are not reality and
the simplest times are over.

Now all I know is hate.
Not hate from my heart
but from the hearts of others.
It haunts them like the ghost it is.

It haunts the mind, heart and soul. It torments the ones they once held closest to them.

It feasts on them like
a child feasts on candy.

It looms over everyone like a
thunderstorm cloud. When
the thunder booms, a lightning
bolt to the heart follows not
far behind.

And now as I sit and write
this poem I can feel its power.
I feel it trying to poison me.
I will not let it take control

     And so a lesson to you: 

do not let hate control,

 for it is a drug of the highest effect.

The price of hate is far greater than that of the price of love.

-Molly

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