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field trip to the beach

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The apple doesn't fall far from the tree
From the jeering of parents comes the chatter of small school children
Mirroring the way they were raised
Believing exactly what they were taught to believe

Until they grow up

They either add to the sea of hate
Or they drown

Jump of the pier into the ocean of beliefs

Maybe eventually the sea will be gone
Not leaving even a puddle in its wake

And the world will be cloaked in a drought  
Filling every corner of the earth in blinding sunshine
 




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